Eleanor Rouse » God

Because it’s important

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Sun, 19 Jun 2011 20:07:05 +0000

I was sad to learn about the recent passing of Mr. Beverly W. “Booty” Armstrong, one of the first people I met in Richmond and someone who made a lasting impact on me. During my rounds of informational interviews, a potential employer suggested that I speak with Booty about his work with the Virginia Performing Arts Foundation – at the time, the Foundation was raising capital to renovate and expand a historic downtown theater. I asked what motivated him to become involved with the project. He replied, “Honestly, I would rather be at a football game than watching a performance, but I do this because it is important for Richmond.”

I’ll never forget that straight-shooting and honest statement about why he was doing what he was doing. As I came to know my adopted city, I found Mr. Armstrong to be among a generation of Virginia gentlemen who cared deeply about the community in which they built businesses and raised their children, and who hoped it would continue to be a city in which their grandchildren would want to live and work. (I mention the men because at the time, they were more visible in corporate leadership than equally- involved and -philanthropic women.)

While meeting with this slightly intimidating yet humor-filled man, he also said to me, “You’re quite comfortable talking with wealthy people, aren’t you?” I was taken aback, and hoped I had not been so informal as to be disrespectful. I had just moved from Aspen, where people of different socioeconomic levels mixed on a daily basis, mostly on a recreational level. Friendly, real interaction with people of wealth who cared about their community as I did had been integral to my eight years of non-profit fundraising in that town. However, there is always deference involved when asking someone to invest their hard-earned money in the common good. Even while I firmly believe that it takes many people playing different roles to create good change in the world – those who ask for funding, those who provide it, and the experts and participants who use it to make change happen – I still find it humbling when donors say yes.

I only spoke with Booty a handful of times after that exceptional first meeting, and I hadn’t seen him for several years. However, he continues to be a role model for me in his commitment to issues he considered critical for the health of this city. I suspect we had different political views, but I’ve been repeatedly surprised by the ways that we in this town can come together to work for what is important.

I do my work primarily because I care about creating equal opportunities for people who do not have them. I also do it because I feel affection for this old, traditional, southern city: a city with injuries so deep they will always be felt, and at the same time a city with promise so great it has yet to be fully realized.

Richmond, along with many other high-poverty urban areas, has problems that are too large for us to solve on our own, either as individuals or as small groups. I think these are problems that require God’s help to solve. But I also believe God wants us to give it our best shot, and at least try before depending on divine intervention to cure our ills.

During my workday, while driving from meeting to meeting, I’ve begun asking for knowledge of God’s will for our community and for God to grant us the power to carry it out. While sitting at a table with colleagues who are working towards a common goal, I sometimes ask the Holy Spirit to come into the room with us. I’m not sure it works, but I sense that my own will relaxes and I become open to our creating something greater than any of us can envision on our own.

I will miss Mr. Armstrong’s presence in this city. Though I didn’t know him well, I believe his big spirit and his example will live on as the rest of us continue to care for this place we love.

Joy!

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 13 Dec 2010 01:46:58 +0000

I’ve recently come to trust, without a doubt, that God cares about my immense joy. I believed that God would care for my heart with solace, healing, and happiness. What I didn’t quite get, until now, was that God could and would blow my mind with totally unearned levels of grace.

Last Saturday, my beloved boyfriend bent down on one knee and with tears in his eyes, asked me to marry him. And of course I said YES! To know that the man I adore loves me enough to want to spend his life with me… well, it is a profound feeling. When I look at his sweet, handsome face, I am so hopeful about our life together.

I owe God my humility and a huge dose gratitude for bringing into my life someone who fit my soul. I love being alone, yet he has become an integral part of my life and with him, I feel more joy and more peace than I’ve ever known on my own.

As some of you are well aware, I am almost always late, and at the same time, not terribly patient. I believe that despite my periodic emotional questioning as to when my turn would come, God knew that waiting would be oh so good for me. I’ve grown in my capacity to love. I’ve become more whole, whole enough to now merge with another.

I’m convinced that God orchestrated this waiting for just the right man, just the right me and just the right time. I want to say thank you to the Big Powerful Heart for loving me that much.

And thank you too for being with me on my journey through this blog, and for being out there in the world, vulnerable in your own way.

When I look at my ring, I feel our love has been there all along. I believe we are meant for each other and that is why it feels so good and so easy to be with him. He is kind to me, even when I send him seven emails about our wedding after he’s worked a 36-hour shift.

Word has it that marriage is hard and the statistics aren’t good. I hope, though, that ours will be filled with wonder and laughter. Now more than ever before, I understand the yearning of same sex couples to marry. This feeling of saying “yes” to formally and reverently binding my life with that of my beloved… anyone who loves another should be able to take this step.

Twelve months ago on my 41^st birthday, I declared it would be the Year of Love. Indeed it was, and with more to come! My sweet man’s proposal proved to me that sometimes good things, the things I want more dearly than anything else, really do happen.

Love in His Way

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 14 Jun 2010 03:22:29 +0000

I’ll be on vacation the next two Sundays, including Father’s Day, so I’d like to take a moment to honor my Dad who died eighteen months and one day ago.

What I want to say is that I loved him and I miss him. I remember the slightly southern and humble yet strong sound of his voice on the telephone. When I spot older men with silver white hair who dress like he did–in khakis, short-sleeved shirt and white tennis shoes–my heart skips a beat. Then I remember he’s no longer here.

He walked with a limp he acquired from a hip injury when he was young. Deciphering just how it happened was a favorite past time for me and my four sisters–football injury! falling from a tree! tumbling down a ravine! No matter how many times he told the real story, we always forgot it. After one of his several surgeries, my older sisters made me up to look like I was 13 in a yellow jumpsuit, heels, and eye shadow, because 9-year-olds were not allowed to visit the hospital. For years, we played with the weighty, silver ball and joint device that was removed from his hip. It seemed like part of my Dad.

I first came to Christianity at 21 because, after several years of distance and fighting with my own father, I needed a loving Father figure and I found one. (Now I yearn to hear “Our Mother” as well, but that’s a theological discussion for another day.) I needed a Father who forgave me for not being perfect–or so I thought. It took years to realize that perfection isn’t the point of being here nor was it what my own Dad, or God, expected.

I learned that perfection is not the point of parenthood either. I came to understand that parents are simply human. I hear so many people talking disappointedly about their mom or dad not being all they wanted or needed. I did that. I held back love from my imperfect, human father. And I regret it.

Dad, I forgive you for not being perfect. Please forgive me for expecting you to be.

I’ve come to respect that my Dad loved in his way. That was all he could do and it was enough. Even when he wasn’t “there”, maybe I needed it that way so I could become what I was supposed to become. Maybe, I can love God as He or She or It is too, instead of needing God to be exactly a form that I understand and “approve” of in any given moment.

I pray that when I am a parent, my children will forgive all that I don’t fulfill for them. I trust that God and others will fill in where I come up short and my children will grow into their own.

God, since he’s with you up there or out there or somewhere, would you please thank my Dad for me? For his frustration at my ill-heeding his guidance. For giving so much of his life to us. For his loneliness, heartache, and worry. For his piano playing, Redskins watching, and commitment to his growth as a man that led to all of this for me. Please thank him for his love.

Dad, I love you. Happy Father’s Day.

God in All Things

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 07 Jun 2010 03:50:01 +0000

I recently learned that the pelican was an ancient symbol of Christ. According to Father William Saunders, “The legend was that in time of famine, the mother pelican wounded herself, striking her breast with the beak to feed her young with her blood to prevent starvation. Another version of the legend was that the mother fed her dying young with her blood to revive them from death, but in turn lost her own life… Given this tradition, one can easily see why the early Christians adapted it to symbolize our Lord, Jesus Christ.”

Just a few days after I read this, I saw these devastating photos of sick and dying pelicans on the Gulf Coast.

The medieval mystic Mechtild of Magdeburg wrote, “The day of my spiritual awakening was the day I saw-and knew I saw-all things in God, and God in all things.” Oil-covered pelicans. Oil-covered Christ. Both drowning in the Gulf. One not able to take flight for the weight of oil in her feathers; the other present in her agony. These photos are my awakening.

With apologies to my pet-owning friends, I admit that I usually care more about humans than animals. I also confess that the environment has not been an issue to which I’ve devoted my passion. Rather than washing my own lettuce, I buy salad in plastic containers. I waste water by turning the shower on before I’m ready to get in. I think only about what I spend on gas, not my consumption. That contributes to the demand for oil, which has led us to this disaster.

“The day of my spiritual awakening was the day I saw-and knew I saw-all things in God, and God in all things.”

Dear Mother Earth, I regret that I have taken you for granted and given you far less attention that you deserve and require. Dear Christ, I have not completely understood your presence in all things until I saw these suffering birds.

Archbishop Emeritus Desmond Tutu said in a Speaking of Faith interview, “At the center of this existence is a heart beating with love.” I imagine that heart is breaking right now as it feels for its creation in the Gulf.

So what can we do now that it’s happened? Many of you are far more experienced than I regarding taking care of that with which God has entrusted us. I just took this Center for Sustainable Economy quiz to measure how much land and ocean my lifestyle requires. Yikes! Apparently we would need 4.35 Earths if everyone lived like I do! Here are their tips for minimizing our ecological footprint. Please share your own suggestions.

I believe we can also pray for the families of those who lost their lives, our sisters and brothers who lost their livelihoods, the ailing pelicans, the endangered whales, and the dying starfish. As Buddhist nun Pema Chödrön teaches in When Things Fall Apart, we can breathe in the pain of all of God’s creatures and breathe out whatever we feel would bring them relief.

“The day of my spiritual awakening was the day I saw-and knew I saw-all things in God, and God in all things.”

What Our Hearts Know

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 26 Apr 2010 03:55:43 +0000

Like many people wanting a mate, I’ve made lists upon lists of attributes I desired in a partner. I created collages envisioning what he would look like, do for a living, drive (I admit my shallowness), wear (ditto), read and be. Mental constructs of my ideal guy. My visualization seemed to “work” – many times, the descriptions I outlined came to be. Years ago, I even met one of the men I had cut out of a magazine and pasted into a collage. Yet often what looked good on the outside was missing something crucial on the inside.

Several editions into my collage, a wise friend gave me great advice. “Create a collage about how you want your life to feel, rather than look, with or without a man.” I took her advice. That collage led me to move home to Virginia from San Francisco, and it lives on my wall today. When faced with decisions, I go to it as a reference point for my heart. It contains images that represent feelings of home, centeredness, sexiness, inspiration, fullness, love, joy, friendship, strength and devotion.

Yesterday, I felt all of that combined, as I snuggled against my man on a rainy Saturday, after a great yoga class and fun pedicure conversation with a good friend. Looking out my window at bright green trees, here was the feeling I’d been walking toward for a long, long time: pure, open-hearted contentment.

You see, I think I’ve become reasonably whole (with much earthly and heavenly assistance). During the years of wanting, and not experiencing, a relationship of length and depth, I practiced cultivating a sense of joy and contentment within myself (sometimes kicking and screaming along the way). If I wanted to live a full life – no matter what – I had no other choice.

It is upon that foundation of love for myself, my winding path, and God, that I now find myself experiencing love for and from someone else.

There is a line from an Eva Cassidy song that describes the mechanism by which I recognize this relationship as deeply good: ‘Cause I know you by heart. Sure, my guy is amazing on paper; he’s handsome, smart, funny, directed, strong, kind, does good in the world, and all sorts of other things that have appeared on my lists. However, it is the feeling in my heart when I am with him that is startlingly different from the past.

I feel authentic, happy, seen, honored, adored, admiring, in love, and grateful. My breath is deep and full in my belly; my body is completely relaxed; and a mighty flower opens in the center of my heart. I believe this is how God intends for me to feel.

Last night, looking at my boyfriend while he studied for exams, I heard the words of a favorite Clay Walker song:

All I know is what I see when I look at you.
And all I see is what I’m feeling down inside.
And all I’m feeling is the feeling that I finally got it right.

I finally learned that it is the feeling – not the list – that makes something right.

What is your heart telling you? I’d love to know.

The Energy Between Us

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Sun, 18 Apr 2010 21:34:21 +0000

A young woman recently told me she believes God is the energy between two people. Such wisdom and awareness! I appreciated the reminder that I must take responsibility for the energy I give to another.

It isn’t easy. I quite regularly catch myself holding back or feeling competitive when interacting with someone new, as if the person across from me must prove herself trustworthy, before I will “love my neighbor as myself.”

The instruction, “So glorify God in your body,” (1 Corinthians 6:20) helps me in my quest to remain open-hearted in my interactions. When I allow God to course through my whole being – heart, mind, strength, and soul – I am much more able to extend “God-like” energy to others.

The yogi Paramahansa Yogananda writes in his mind-opening book, The Yoga of Jesus, “When one actually perceives the Divine Presence in his own soul, he is inspired with love for his neighbor – Jew and Christian, Muslim and Hindu – in the consciousness that one’s true Self and the Selves of all others are equally soul-reflections of the one infinitely lovable God.” (pg. 99)

Can I recognize God in another? Would I even try to see God in my enemy? What kind of energy would I create with her if I did? I find it hard enough to be conscious about my energy with those I love – to love them as completely as I would like to love myself. Therein lies the problem. If I love myself conditionally, I will love others the same way. Similarly, the judgment I feel toward others often reflects hostility within me toward myself.

In interpreting the gospel writer John’s account of Jesus speaking to a Samaritan woman (which a Jewish man at the time would not have done), contemplative priest Cynthia Bourgeault illustrates beautifully what can happen when two people recognize each other as Divine:

“Something he sees in her gives him the confidence to be so nakedly vulnerable; and something she sees in him gives her the confidence to follow his lead, to go higher and higher and deeper and deeper in herself, knowing far beyond what she could know from ordinary knowingness, knowing fully in the immediacy of her own heart. This quality of awareness is not something that comes from outside the moment. Rather, it grows up in the moment itself through the quality and energy of the heart connection.” (The Wisdom Jesus, pg. 11)

May we all give to each other and experience that kind of God energy.

Peace

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 05 Apr 2010 13:29:28 +0000

Of all the devotion, betrayal, strength, fallibility, sadness, and glory I heard and read about during Holy Week, the line that moved me the most was this: “Peace is my last gift to you, my own peace I now leave with you; peace which the world cannot give, I give to you.” (The Book of Common Prayer)

I’ve written often about doubt and uncertainty on this winding path of mine. It is challenging, at times, to feel lasting peace about earthly matters such as money, love, work, health insurance, family misunderstandings, and social injustice. Yet, in the midst of all or any of those, I’ve come to recognize the kind of peace that is a gift from God – “peace which the world cannot give.”

This peace I feel in my body. When the core of me is open, breathing, and calm, my mind feels safe to follow suit. In this state, I trust the peace of the certainty I feel – certainty that it all means something and God is there for me to lean on. It is the deep peace of forgiveness after confessing “things done and left undone.” It is the peace of saying, “Yes, I do believe in this mystery that ‘passes all understanding.’”

When watching and participating in Maundy Thursday and Good Friday services last week, I had to acknowledge that I believe in what this sacred practice represents. Seeing my clergy dressed in black with their backs turned to the congregation as they prayed was incredibly moving for me. I believe in the underlying story. So I say the words; I sing; I kneel; I eat the spiritual food. On Easter, it sank in deeper.

The judgmental, exclusionary, violent, sexist, neighbor-against-neighbor interpretations of Christianity have made me wary of Christianity as a whole. I’m grateful now to be learning a profoundly different take on what Jesus was teaching and to have found an understanding of God’s kingdom that I want to be a part of.

My mind still asks, “Am I for real? Is this devotion to and worship of God coming from my heart or my head?” I trust my body when she replies, “Yes. This is real for me. I feel this deeply. It has integrity.” Writing about and saying “Jesus” out loud is, at times, uncomfortable for me, yet being with him in private always feels natural. When I meditate, I invite him to sit with me. He offers his hands. I take them. This is complete peace for me.

What brings you peace? If you’d like to share your own practice, please do so.

Using Our Divine Might

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 29 Mar 2010 15:42:23 +0000

“They shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees and no one shall make them afraid.” Micah 4:4

A few days ago, my sweet 13-year-old niece wrote me that she wants to change the world for women and girls. Specifically, she intends to stop rape and sexual trafficking. I’m glad she’s on the case: recently I read of the horrific rape of girls, some just two or four years old, in post-earthquake Haiti.

“…And no one shall make them afraid.” It’s too late; someone has already made these girls afraid.

My niece asked for my help in creating her world-saving plan. In awe of her commitment and humbled by her request, I put what I’ve learned as a Girl Action Team coach to work and suggested a few questions that can help her begin: What strengths can she bring to creating change? What are the personal assets she can draw upon to help her? How would she complete the Girls For a Change phrase, “This world needs me because…?”

They are powerful questions to explore: Why does this world need me? What does God need me to do and become while I’m here? As I grow and the stability of the world seems to change on a daily basis, asking God these questions and listening for answers is an ongoing practice.

Why does this world need you? What is God asking you to do for the sake of your own soul and for the care of your fellow man? What role are you to play in the healing and further development of the world?

Yesterday was Palm Sunday, commemorating the day that Jesus rode humbly into Jerusalem to shake up an unjust world order. Even before I had any spiritual understanding of Jesus, he was, and remains, my social justice hero. He was a man of courage, integrity, humble confidence, conviction and deep regard for the dignity of all human beings, especially those who have neither vine nor fig tree to sit under.

Of course, he and his work were infused by a power far greater than his mortal form. He was both man and God. My understanding is that we are too. No, we may not possess the level of enlightenment, selflessness and pure connection to the Divine that Jesus did, yet we are “made in the image of God.” We, too, have the power of God inside us and supporting us. We, too, are here to create a more just world. I could be wrong, but I’m pretty sure Jesus was frustrated with his disciples for not realizing that they, also, were capable of doing what he did and dying for what they believed in. They had a choice, though – whether to acknowledge and use this power, or not.

From the beginning of humanity, the world has needed people – like Jesus, like my niece – who are willing and ready to create a far better place than one in which young girls are raped and tossed aside like trash. I believe God needs all of us to help Him and has equipped us with divine might to do so.

Being Sure

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Mon, 22 Mar 2010 03:59:12 +0000

I attended my first 12-step program meeting at the age of 26 because I was consumed with fear of the future. I was desperate for more surety about how my life was going to work out. The potential for disappointment controlled me. Having just moved to the gorgeous and playful mountains of Colorado in my mid-twenties, I knew I wasn’t supposed to be feeling terrorized.

This was a significant step on my spiritual journey. In the years since, I’ve been on a quest to lessen my attachment to surety, and at the same time figure out whatI can place my trust in. I set aside my hope for an illustrated how-to guide to the future, and instead developed a deep trust that no matter what happened, I would not be alone in figuring it out.

I also worked with a life coach who helped me grow beyond needing surety before acting. I so feared doing the wrong thing and bringing ruin – financial, emotional or professional – upon myself or others.

I finally let this fear go when I surrendered to God’s will for my life – a practice I repeat daily. And wouldn’t you know it? Lately, at the most unexpected moments, I’ve been struck by a feeling of certainty.

While sitting at a stoplight, something opens in my heart and fills my eyes with tears of awareness. It feels like the most precious grace. My priest described grace as “the unasked for, unearned love of God.” When the tears come, it is because I recognize that God is leading me to touching, and at times astonishing, surety about pieces of my life.

As I take alternatingly bold and baby steps into a new and unknown career, people, to my amazement, are saying yes, and doors are opening in places where I did not expect to find them. As I commit to loving and being myself in a new relationship, a calm, heart-opening surety I’ve never felt before grows daily.

Then there is surety about infinitely smaller things. For instance, this morning I wanted to buy two plastic Adirondack chairs to make my deck more hospitable for my visiting boyfriend (and to finally feel like an adult with real deck furniture.) I debated it, though:

“Maybe I should get just one. He can sit in that. I’ll sit in the rotting, 6-year old beach chair and save $24.99,” said the more frugal part of my brain.

“But you really feel like crap sitting in that rotting beach chair,” the part of me that loves myself replied. “And you refrained from buying the cute Liberty of London bra and panty set. That’s $24.99 saved right there!”

I debated this all the way to the check-out line. Still unsure, I let the cashier ring up both chairs and announce the total. It was unexpectedly low – they were on sale! Debate closed. Ahhhh, surety.

Is God present in small, rather insignificant decisions like this one? I think so. I think God is available for consult whenever and wherever I invite Him in. Actually, I think God is present whether I invite Him or not. I debate with myself, ask for help, take a step in further, ask again, wait, meditate, write, plead, listen, and act again. And so it goes. Sometimes with an onslaught of tears at a stoplight, sometimes gleefully at the cash register, and sometimes after years of contemplation, clarity comes.

What are the signs of surety for you? What inspires you to act with when there’s no guarantee? If you care to, please share your thoughts here.

Wrestling With It

Eleanor R. Kootsey — Tue, 09 Mar 2010 03:29:44 +0000

My priest recently told me I didn’t have to be an expert in Christian scripture to begin incorporating it into my writing and workshops when I feel doing so would deepen the experience. He told me to “just get in there and wrestle with it”. His advice came as a huge relief, because I’ve been feeling uneasy about bringing in passages from the Bible – the whole of which I’ve not read. I don’t even fully understand the literal interpretations of what I have read. However, some of its words have been speaking to me at a deeper level and I’m using my weekly writings to work out their meaning in relation to my life and soul.

For the past 13 months, I’ve been on a journey with this platform. What started as a marketing tool transformed into an offering. I decided to start giving what I had to give. I believe God asks us to share the resources we have – money, food, inspiration, courage or care – whatever our wealth of the moment may be. The intent of this blog is to share what is opening my mind, body and spirit, in case something I’ve experienced could be of value to your heart. And vice versa: for you to share your wisdom and questioning with me.

Because God has played a central role in every significant growth period of my life, I want to acknowledge what I believe is the golden ticket to personal and spiritual development. I’d like to explore not only my understanding of God, but yours as well.

I’m scared, though. I’m afraid you (and my family) will think I’ve become a crazed evangelist. Even worse, I fear sounding like an amateur evangelist because of my lack of expertise in the teachings of Jesus and God’s other messengers. I’m considering attending divinity school to be able to base my work upon a vast history of knowledge and inquiry, yet for now, I’m simply diving in and “wrestling with it.”

My heart and thinking will continue to be influenced by meditation, yoga, innumerable books, the moving worship traditions of other religions, and the Divine Feminine. For me, God is everywhere.

The Jesus I believe in is anything but limiting. I’m beginning to think he was and is far deeper and more magical and mystical than usually portrayed. One of my girlfriends said the other night, “What’s the point of it all without the magic?” I love that perspective.

That is what I’d like to explore with you, going forward. Where is the magic of God found in your life?