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Archive for the ‘Spiritual Growth’ Category

Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

Every year at about this same time I look ahead to March and realize it’s coming. During the month of March for at least 10 years, I’ve written a daily post alongside many others for the Two Writing Teachers daily Slice of Life Challenge. I approach March with a sense of dread and excitement. Writing a daily post, looking at a blank page and filling it with something worthwhile, is daunting; however, after so many years of experience, I know that writing in a community of other writers drives me.

This month I’ve been writing with a Facebook community for Laura Shovan’s 13th annual February Challenge. I feel it’s an impossible task until I get it done and look at my collection of poems. Most of them are drifty drafts, but it pleases me to have written them.

The most common denominator I have seen among writers who commit to daily writing is the fear of writing for an audience, and the best feeling is having written for an audience. My students experience the same fear. They don’t know it yet, but I’ve signed them up for the classroom Slice of Life Challenge. Writing out loud for an audience makes us vulnerable, yes, but it also makes us strong and brave.

If you are planning to do the SOL Challenge, let me know in the comments. We can support each other.

Here’s a small brave poem I put on my Instagram yesterday. I was visiting Mississippi where my brother and my mother live. We met yesterday with a very sweet Hospice nurse, and for the first time, I left my mother feeling hopeful. There is a gift in small moments of hope. I’ll take it.

Morning walk encounter with hope
rising from the lake
like our heroic Hospice nurse
who speaks in loving lift,
healing hearts.

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Poetry Friday is hosted today by Carol at Beyond Literacy Link

On the first Friday of the month, Inklings (my trusty writing group) respond to a challenge. Mary Lee made it easy this month. She asked us to type a color into the public domain image archive and find a photo to write about. I chose lilac. I immediately got a photo I knew was telling a story. I imagined that Lilas and the bug are having a conversation.

“Unhappy the man who never had his eyes fill with tears at the sight of a particular flower. Such a one can have been neither a child nor a youth. He can have had neither mother, sister, nor affianced bride. He never loved.” This is the tone and tenor throughout Les Fleurs animées (The Flowers personified), a collection of floral — and sometimes florid — writing, featuring playful illustrations by J. J. Grandville (1803–1847), engraved and hand-colored by Charles Michel Geoffroy.

How Lilas Learns of Love (a cherita)

With draping lilacs for long locks,

Lilas questions Sir Ladybug,
“Where will my love grow?”

Love grows from a starter seed
planted small in your heart
until with wisdom, grace, and tender care…Blooms!

Margaret Simon, draft

To see other Inkling poems, visit their blogs:
Linda @A Word Edgewise
Mary Lee @ A(nother) Year of Reading
Molly @ Nix the Comfort Zone (and oh boy, did she ever…)
Heidi @my juicy little universe
Catherine @ Reading to the Core 

Spiritual Journey first Thursday is gathered by Bob Hamera.

Bob suggested we ponder the idea that doors may close while another one opens, how focusing on the closed door may lead us to miss the open one. My father spoke about this in his firm belief that there is always a resurrection. Jesus showed us in a very real sense that when someone dies, it is not the end. I’ve always prided myself on a belief in the resurrection; however, when faced with an actual closed door, a death of something in my life that I put my trust in, whether it be a job, a friendship, a manuscript, I get lost and lonely and question. That is the rough part of the death/resurrection story arc.

I am following a path to a new journey to retirement. This is a door I’ve chosen, but even so, I have mixed feelings. So many of my days with my students are good, happy, and fulfilling. I will miss teaching, I know. I also know I’m a teacher through and through. I chose this career when I was 15 years old. I will find ways to still be a teacher. I keep telling myself this truth, but it’s not easy. When I tell people I’m retiring, I hear “Congratulations!” I wish I could feel excited. Is it the closed door I fear? Or the open one I’m unsure about?

Resurrection fern is grey when the sun is out, but turns to bright green after the rain. May God bless us with the knowledge and grit to survive the grey and thrive again after the rain.

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Spiritual Journey, First Thursday is being hosted today by Kim Johnson at Common Threads. This is Kim’s first time to host, so please give her some comment love!

Kim Johnson, our SJT host, has read a new book, Wintering by Katherine May. I have not read this, but I loved reading Kim’s thoughts about how winter gives us some time to read and reflect. I wish I could say that I’ve had that kind of time, but the truth is things have been quite frenzied around my house. But a spiritual journey means even in times of stress, we should make moments in our day for prayer, meditation, and reflection.

I am currently reading The Buddhist Enneagram: Nine Paths to Warriorship by Susan Piver. I heard her on a podcast called The Austin Enneagram by Elizabeth Chapin. The author Susan Piver writes concisely about the enneagram numbers while adding in Buddhist teachings around warriorship. Who doesn’t want to be a warrior? I struggle to embrace the good aspects of my number (four) and tend to focus more often on the negative ones, such as overrun emotions and shame. Working on ourselves and with our personalities is a lifelong spiritual journey.

AI tells me “In Buddhism, warriorship is about being present with what is happening, and not reacting with fight or flight. It’s about facing one’s own neurosis in order to address the neurosis of the world”

I can become a warrior by living in gratitude.

On one of those frenzied days, I became overcome by irritation, so I took a drive by myself. I went to the pharmacy to pick up a prescription. While I checked out, a woman recognized me and told me how her husband was in the hospital. My heart went out to her. Also, my irritation was relieved. God was letting me know, through presence and empathy, I can be selfless and generous. Maybe I can be a warrior who “addresses the neurosis of the world.”

What are you reading on these cold days? How are you being a warrior?

Photo by Taryn Elliott on Pexels.com

Here is the link to the Google spreadsheet for 2025 if you would like to host a month for Spiritual Journey First Thursday. https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1G73WNfn54dXAqT8gJTAcPfPtmWh0pXxo1LrTdf2aTMA/edit?usp=sharing

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Prayer candles in St. James Episcopal Church, 2024 by Margaret Simon

I was in my childhood home church on Sunday. While the scent of incense lingered, I walked over to the columbarium to say hello to my dad. I saw the metal rack of votive candles. I decided to light a candle for my mother, in hospice care at the end stages of Alzheimer’s, and one for my daughter’s mother-in-law who is battling cancer. To light a candle for someone symbolizes the prayer intention. Do we need this symbols? I believe we can pray without them, of course, but something in me was comforted by the act of lighting.

I invite you to consider holy moments, whether they be in church or out in nature, perhaps even in the quiet of your day. We can set intentions and practice mindfulness. What are your intentions today? Write a small poem in the comments and encourage others who write with us.

Instead of empty…
fill
Instead of fallow…
fertile
Instead of loss…
love
Instead of lies…
truth
Instead of hopelessness…
faith

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Leigh Anne has the October Spiritual Thursday gathering at A Day in the Life.
Female monarch butterfly

While walking in my neighborhood, I saw this large monarch sitting on the ground, barely moving. I crouched down expecting it to fly away, but she stayed very still. I gently placed my finger under her legs and she stayed there on my hand. I marveled at this moment while also worrying about why she was so lethargic. Had she just landed after a long trip from the north? Was she hungry?

I lifted her tired body to a nearby rose bush. I left her there with a blessing.

I often turn to the life cycles of nature to gather a spiritual understanding of change and transformation. Change is hard. I’ve watched my mother change from a vibrant, active woman to an inactive, confused invalid. I know there are parts of her still there, but they are harder and harder to see as she transforms. I question the cruelty of it all, but perhaps it’s only cruel in my limited vision, but not so cruel to her. How can I know?

When a caterpillar begins its pupa stage, there is a struggle. It wiggles and writhes, dropping its head and consuming its body sometimes right before our eyes.

Then it’s the waiting time, absorbing its old self and becoming something new and magical.

I wish I could stop time. I wish I could sit with my mother again and talk about everything. Change and transformation include this in between time, the time of waiting, the time to be present and grateful for what was and will be again.

Faith Broussard Cade posts inspiring notes on Instagram daily. I love them. You can follow her @fleurdelisspeaks. Her new book is Shine Bright Anyway.

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Thank you to Two Writing Teachers for creating an amazing community of writers and a safe, welcoming space to write and share.

For multiple reasons, I had a rough week last week. On Saturday, I woke up early and went to a local farmer’s market to sell books and make “zines” with kids. It was really great fun, but hot! By the time I finished, I had not eaten or had anything to drink, so I went to my daughter’s house to cool off, literally.

Maggie and I started talking about my week and the day at the market. She suggested I pull a card from her oracle deck, “Mysteries of Love” from alenahennessy.com.

The card I pulled could not have been more perfect, literally and figuratively.

Today on Ethical ELA’s Open Write, the prompt was given by Larin, Thought You Should Know.

I wrote a poem to the Oracle Deck:

To the Oracle Deck (Snap Dragon: Cooling Down)

I want you to know
I’m trying to balance
will & ego,
soothe my inner fire,
but the system pushes
back again and again.

I want you to know
they say we have to move Mom
to skilled nursing. No! I shout
to you. This is not the path
I expected.

I want you to know
I tried to smile at everyone
I met in the halls at school.
I held onto a door handle
and did tree pose
just to test my balance.

I want you to know
how much I want to love
a puppy that chews my shoelaces
as I write this. If I stay cool,
will he stop and look up
with loving eyes?

I want you to know that no matter
what you told me on Saturday,
my will is fading fast
on Tuesday. I should pick
another card.

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Today is a dual post for Spiritual Journey and Poetry Friday. Ruth Ayres is our host for the Spiritual Thursday link up here. Heidi Mordhorst has the Poetry Friday gathering here.

Ruth chose the topic of “wholeheartedly” for Spiritual Thursday. When I looked up the meaning of wholeheartedly, I read “with complete sincerity and commitment.”

Due to the invasion of Hurricane Francine, I wholeheartedly jumped into protection mode. My daughter sheltered at our house with her two littles, Leo (5.5) and Stella (3.5). Combine that toddler energy with a 6 month old puppy and you get an equation of full on energy. We baked, we colored (Albert ate a few crayons), we read, watched a fun Disney movie “Brave”, and played and played and played. My daughter said to me as they took all the plastic containers out of the cabinet, “They never get bored.”

My teacher heart was happy when Leo wanted to write a book. We folded a zine, and he wrote and drew. It was fun so see him making the connection between letters and sounds and words. His first page read “Mat is soopr hro.” He couldn’t stop laughing when he decided that Mat would sit on a pear. I loved seeing his face shine with pride.

I’m happy to report that Francine came through with little fanfare here in the arch of the boot, New Iberia. She skirted by to the east and only dumped rain and some leaves and branches. My grandchildren have learned about earning cash for chores, so they happily helped pick up sticks (a penny a stick) and swept cypress needles off the deck.

This post is neither very spiritual or poetic, but I felt I should post something. There’s a reason I didn’t write much while my children still lived in our home. I am wholeheartedly a mother and now a grandmother. I wouldn’t change a thing.

Leo and Stella show pride in their baked banana bread.

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Carol Varsalona is gathering Spiritual Journey posts. She chose the topic of Pause.

Pause. Be still. Take a break. Breathe.

I hear a mantra in Carol’s call for us to reflect on the word “Pause.” My summer has been a time for pause, a time to reflect and rest. Here I am on the first day of August awake before the sun. Teachers report back to school today. My pausing time is at an end.

So especially today, I want to remind myself that even though I will be in the classroom among the hubbub of school activities, bells, schedules, carpool, crazy, I can still make space for pause.

A pause can be small.
Stop to notice.
Breathe in a peaceful moment.
Look at a child.
Rest in their smile.
Pause is a peaceful word,
the sound of silence
in the midst of my day.
As I drive the country roads,
I can pause to notice the clouds,
how they drift without direction
or concern.

Soften your eyes. Notice where your body
feels pain or anxiety. Speak to it.
Honor the feeling, then release it.
You can do this, I tell myself.
You can be calm, open to what the day
offers. Rest in the knowledge that all
will be well. All will be well.

Sunflowers, by Margaret Simon

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Ruth at There is no such thing as a God-forsaken town is rounding up this month’s Spiritual Journey posts.

I have been singing all of my life. I can remember being in a church choir when I was a teenager. We performed “Godspell” which is still one of my favorite musicals. I was never up front as a soloist but confidently following the alto line. I’ve been in our church choir for 30+ years.

Recently I’ve felt a weakness in my voice. Sometimes nothing comes out or notes crack. I never know when it’s going to happen, but I wanted to conquer it. Get my voice back. I made a play list on my phone I titled “I Have a Voice.” It includes songs like “A Beautiful Noise” by Alicia Keys and Brandi Carlile and “Little Voice” by Sara Bareilles. I’ve been singing along for a year. My brother, who is a professional musician, told me I just needed to sing more often. He suggested, “Set a time of the day that you will sing, like on your way to school.”

In the spring, I received an email from our local community theater offering voice lessons for the summer. I thought, “why not?” Lanie, my voice teacher, is young and talented. I’ve watched her in the theater’s musicals and she has a voice. What I didn’t know when I started was whether or not she could teach. She can! We’ve worked together for four weeks. Most of all I have gained confidence. I still have instances when my voice catches, but now I know not to panic. I relax my throat and move on.

Last Sunday I sang a solo of one of the songs on my playlist, “Little Things with Great Love” written by Audrey Assad. Her songs are poetic. They are not traditional, but they are thoughtful and deeply spiritual.

I was able to tell Lanie with a glimmer of tears in my eyes that I was proud of my performance. I don’t plan any kind of career in singing. I just want to “make a beautiful noise” and perhaps touch others with my voice. I think I accomplished that on Sunday.

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This month’s Spiritual Journey is being gathered by Karen Eastlund.

In these first few weeks of summer, I find myself lingering. Taking my time on my morning walk to stop and take a picture, visit with a neighbor, enjoy the bird songs. I linger over morning coffee. I know this is how it should be, but there’s this little mouse in my brain that thinks I should accomplish things. I sing to myself “It is Well”.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well, with my soul

It is well
With my soul
It is well, it is well with my soul

Audrey Assad

Peace is my one little word for 2024, so I pay attention. Peace comes to me in songs, in the sounds of the birds, in the slowing down of summer.

When I stopped to take pictures in my neighbor’s garden, she said, “Now write a haiku.” She laughed, but that is what I did. Haiku is a perfect form for peaceful nature noticing.

Canopy of oak arms
reaching, tossing tumbling light–
peace attends my soul.
photo and haiku by Margaret Simon
Freckled lily blossom
Lonely lighthouse beacon
Pool of goldfish beams
photo and haiku by Margaret Simon

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