photo of brown bare tree on brown surface during daytime

Acknowledging Dualities

By what means will we lead in this hinge time in history? What habits and practices will nurture the ability to live and lead in the liminality  of our time? What role do relationships play?  Perhaps, the place to begin is by reflecting  on what it means to flourish.

As is common in cultures on the downside of the lifecycle,  there is a strong fear of failure these days. The resulting push to avoid mistakes and be “perfect” not only limits creativity, but blocks the very transformation  we seek.  It is important to remember that the ancients understood  wholeness to include both shadow and light. As Carl Jung notes: “There is no light without  shadow and no psychic wholeness without imperfection. To round itself out life… calls not for perfection but for completeness and for this the ‘thorn in the flesh’ is needed, the suffering of defects without which there is no progress and no ascent.” A mistranslation of the Greek word“teleios” has led generations of Christians  to seek “perfection”  over “completeness.”

Yet, the ancients understood the importance of acknowledging the dualities within each one of us. Jim Loehr and Tony Schwartz in The Power of Full Engagement reflect on the concept of anacoluthia—the mutualentailment of virtues: “By this notion, no virtue is a virtue by itself.  Rather, all virtues are entailed.  Honesty, without  compassion, for example, becomes cruelty.”  

To seek the flourishing of our communities in this threshold time requires courages and a willigness to engage the whole person, not just those attributes which are perceived to be culturally acceptable. This speaks to the need to confront and claim our whole selvers in service to others. As Henri Nouwen reminds us: The great illusion of leadership is to think that we can be led out of the desert by someone who has never been there.

Maybe there is a purpose to these desert times in which we find ourselves!

people walking on pedestrian lane during daytime

Leading in Exile

Last week, we looked at the context of leadership: exile of body, mind and soul (  This week, we explore leading in exile.

I believe it begins with forming an alternative worldview, not dependent upon the dominant social, cultural andpolitical values.   In my work with prosocial leaders, I’ve found that two competencies, in particular,  lendthemselves to leading in times of exile: that of Poet and Prophet.  In a time, when many voices speak on asuperficial  level, we need the poet to help articulate the pain and questioning  born of our state of alienationand dislocation.  

Missiologist Alan Roxburgh describes poets as:

The articulators of experience and the rememberers of tradition. They image and symbolize theunarticulated experience of the community, identifying and expressing the soul of the people. The poet isa listener and an observer, sensing the experience of the body and giving that experience a voice.

Many voices compete for our allegiance.  The poet helps us to remember who we are that we might reclaim the integrity  of core identity and character. Beyond the quick fix, beyond the individualization  of our times, beyond the loss and pain born of deepchange, the poet helps to draw people into hope for the future.  Through image and story, the poet shapesmeaning out of chaos that memories might be shared and new visions emerge.  The poet weaves togetherthe disparate (and often, dissonant) voices into a rich tapestry of story and meaning that neither reduces, noreliminates creative tensions, but rather nurtures exploration of new collective possibilities.

The word of the poet is heard because the poet is not didactic. The poet neither scolds, nor sells; rather the poet invites the community to imagine together another way of being. By painting a picture of Shalom throughwords, the poet intuits a way forward that permits relinquishment of old ways of being.   The poet thereby  creates movement  beyond the present crisis of identity to fresh forms of community.  These possibilitiesallow the community to shift from  a focus on deficiencies, individual interests, and entitlement  to a focus onpossibility, strength, and generosity of spirit. But, as Roxburgh points out, “Without the prophetic voice, poeticleadership is little more than adaptation and consolation.”

The prophetic  challenge of the leader becomes the means by which the community crosses over into a newunderstanding of role and responsibility in seeking Shalom of the cities to which we have been sent into  exile.  Pain has the potential to open the door to deep, kenotic change. Kenotic change, the emptying of real and perceived rights and prerogatives that we might embody Shalom,requires attentiveness to both the guilt and the yearning that stirs in our souls.

The prophetic voice is the voice of truth. As both individual and collective whole come to claim the truth abouttheir present state of being, they are thus invited into a paradoxical experience of loss and hope.  True flourishing involves  a delicate dance of repentance as the community  acknowledges their state of brokennessand delight as they yield to the possibilities born of an alternative vision.

It is important to note that the truth, which the prophetic voice speaks into the life of the community, is not anephemeral ideal or abstract concept, but rather an embodied reality.  This reality is tested and refined in the context of relationship.  Truth is made real as the community comes to experience the wholeness of body,mind, spirit,  and emotion.   The leader as prophet names dehumanizing policies and structures, as well  asintroducing new practices that nurture community.   These practices help the community to surrender old waysof being,  thereby allowing the new to emerge.

The prophetic voice of the leader thereby empowers the community to reside in the liminality  of this time.  Instead of avoiding or minimizing  differences, the leader as prophet helps the community  to claim the gift ofconflict.   Deep, adaptive change will not come apart from challenge: of our structures, of our processes, of ourvery understanding of community.  Beyond the individualism which seeks to care for “self”  apart from the“whole” of the community,

Flourishing calls us to realize our inter-dependence  upon one another.  The leader as prophet refocusesthe conversation from that which is unsustainable to finding new solutions to the environmental, socialand economic challenges we face.

Taken together, nurturing the poet and prophet within allows us as leaders to transforms pain into hope,thereby inviting previously unimaginable levels of engagement in shaping a new reality.  When we lead aspoet and prophet, we invite the communities of which we are a part to engage in acts of intentional change,  not for the sake of change, but that an alternative identity  might be formed for the flourishing of people and planet.

Willing to share your story of leading as poet and prophet?  Please share!

Investing in Yourelf!

How often do you invest in yourself?  Really!  

Long ago, a wise leader asked: What does it profit if you gain the whole world and lose your soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?  The two questions haunt me—on both a personal and a professional level.  I know firsthand the paradoxical experience of outward success and inward emptiness.  I can attest to the cost of pouring myself out in service, only to wake up drained of compassion and devoid of energy. 

As leaders, we enter our work in response to a deep-rooted sense of call.  In the very fiber of our being is the desire to make a difference—the yearning to bear transformation—into the life of individual, community and world.  In the strength of our passions and gifts, we become leaders charged with the oversight of many.  For most of us, the strength of our call carries us through the first five or ten or even fifteen years, until one day they we wake up spent and emptied, wondering, “what is it all about?”  It is then that Jesus’ question rises to the surface of consciousness: “What does it profit if you gain the whole world and lose your soul?  Is anything worth more than your soul?”

Richard Boyatzis and Annie McKee reflect on the cost sacrificing too much for too long:  “The constant sacrifices and stress inherent in effective leadership can cause us to lose ourselves and sink into dissonance […] slowly, over many years, we lose touch with who we are and what we really care about, and one day we find we are not ourselves anymore.”  The tender reality is that when leaders, in any profession, find themselves trapped in the sacrifice syndrome, mere rest and relaxation is not sufficient.  

Restoration…renewal will only come through the intentional practice of mindfulness, compassion, hope and play.   When a leader loses his or her soul, it is costly to retrieve.  As pastors and elders, we have a responsibility to be attentive to the care of our souls.  Until (and unless), we attend to the care of soul, the spiritual transformation of team, congregation, and community will remain impossible.   How will you gift yourself with sufficient time apart to awaken anew to yourself and to Source?  

Business Laureate Hall of Fame Dee Hock challenges leaders to calculate how much time and energy they invest in each of these directions—people beneath them, over them, peers, and leading themselves.  His recommendation is that “we should invest 50% of our leadership amperage into the task of leading ourselves; and the remaining 50% should be divided into leading down, leading up, and leading laterally.”  Daniel Goldman, in his study of  leadership potential, has found that has found that self-leadership is the root cause of why most leaders hit a plateau far from their full potential.

Leadership begins with investing in yourself; in knowing who we are and allowing that to inform our doing.  We have the power to cast either shadow or light.  As leaders, we create the ethos in which others must live: one of light in which people flourish and grow or one that is a living hell.   What sort of ethos are you creating?  

How are you connecting to Source—for care of both your soul and the people with whom you serve?

man tattooed praying

Grieving & Trusting

I’ve been grieving this week.  I’ve been grieving the loss of  American lives to Covid-19.  One in five hundred Americans have died, yet we are still arguing over masks and vaccines.  I’ve been grieving over the polarization between political parties, and divided communities, and explosive school board meetings across the country.  I’ve been grieving and yet trusting as the vaccine becomes available for children ages 5-11, as the booster arrives for those over age 65 (please get it!), as we continue to respond and adapt to our changing circumstances.

Even as our present context has brought me to my knees in prayer, I am reminded that disruption is often the context for deep change.  And so, my prayer is not shaped by words but surrender.  I find myself seeking to abide in the mystery that I might the emergence of a new way of being.  In my dwelling, I trust even when no immediate resolution to our present circumstances seems to be on the horizon.

My dwelling time has led me to reflect on the crucibles in life.  Those times when I’ve not been able to bypass the fire, but rather are led through it by grace.  As I’ve reflected on my own fiery furnaces, I’ve been reminded of how much I have learned through my failures and how much I’ve grown.   

Often, we are not saved from life’s trials. Rather we are shaped and formed by them.  We live in a culture that has become expert at avoiding pain (or at least attempting it). Yet, deep down we know that trial, temptation, and even failure are often gifts in disguise. 

It should not surprise us therefore, that spiritual growth, essential to change leadership, entails suffering, pain, and struggle.  Our trials and temptations become the means by which barriers come down. The gift and burden of free will means that we must choose to embrace the pain, rather than run from it.  Such is the paradox of this time.

One note of caution: Crucibles alone do not transform us. They can, however, help us loosen our grip, free us trying to control the outcome, and bring us home to ourselves, one another, and this world.

May we dare to embrace the pain of this time as a form of rebirth!



A poet is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable searching after fact and reason.  The art of negative capability.



What stories do you carry around in your head in need of revising?  

Jim Loehr speaks to the importance of leaders knowing their stories: “Stories impose meaning on the chaos; they organize and give context to our sensory experiences, which otherwise might seem like no more than a fairly colorless sequence of fact.  Facts are meaningless until you create a story around them.”  

Stories are essential.  They help us to deal with the complexities of human experience that cannot be understood by the rational mind alone.  They provide the means by which to live with contradiction, compromise, conflict and even crisis.  The challenge is that our narratives need revising; they need a fuller, more challenging, more honest telling.


We cannot make sense of the present chaos, unless we confront the inadequate telling of our stories.  The “facts” are no longer so clear.  Whose land do we really live on?  What makes us good?  Why do we believe our telling of the story is accurate?  To live these questions, we must learn the art of negative capability. We must become “capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable searching after fact and reason.”  It is then that our remembering is opened to engage the whole of our stories. 

The reality is that all of us carry within ourselves false stories.  Unless we take the time to name our false narratives, we will likely impose our biases, blindness, and fears upon others.  “Unhealthy storytelling is characterized by a diet of faulty thinking and, ultimately, long-term negative consequences… hardening of categories, narrowing of the possibilities, calcification of perception (Loehr).”  False stories literally reconfigure our neural pathways: both on an individual and collective level.


We cannot live from strength when our beliefs are rooted in a flawed understanding of self and world. Intimacy, generatively, and integrity are all born of claiming the whole of our stories.  Only as we engage the less savory parts, will we come to accept the reality that we carry within us both weakness and strength, good and bad.  It is then that we discover compassion, which opens to a future beyond the present impasse.

This requires an emptying of what we think we know.  The koine Greek word kenosis speaks to the emptying of self as the source of all true power.   With kenosis, we come to understand, how we use power to afflict or set free: the choice remains ours.  Much of how we use power depends upon how well we have emptied ourselves. Kenotic power is not like ego power.  


Kenosis leads us beyond a focus on personal survival to an emptying that becomes the means by which healing enters this world.  We come to understand that our integrity is measured by the degree to which we bear wholeness into the lives of others and honor creation.  This is not just words, it is the power to transform.  Now that is a story that I want to be part of!

So, how are you being called to empty yourself for the sake of the world?   Take some time this next week to practice kenosis.  What false narratives are you being called to risk that together we might live?

Never forget that emptying is prelude to filling!  

Everyone Lies

Everyone lies… Does it matter?

Everyone lies, he said.  And, it is true.  We all have told those little white lies to avoid hurting  another person’s feelings.  We have skimmed the full truth to make ourselves look better.  In a moment of anxiety, we have even outright lied to hide the shame triggered by an unhealed aspect of childhood.  Everyone lies, and it is true.  

The question is does it matter? Yes, yes it does.  For the care of both the individual soul and the soul of our country, it matters.  But, to address it we must be willing to move beyond shamming one another.  Only then will we be equipped to dig beneath the dysfunctional behaviors to address the root wounds; to understand the triggers and address them.

I remember an intervention years ago, where a cross-section of stakeholders cited twenty-nine incidents of lying.  The board was asked if it mattered.  Their response: Of course, it mattered!  With another intervention, it didn’t.  The “successful” outcome markers mattered more.  One system healed (with the firing of the individual who had lied), the other resulted in a split.   Our integrity matters.  At the same time, I continue to think about the root wounds and fears that drive leaders and systems to lie.  

Before the election, the New Yorker reported some pretty serious tallies: 

The President has survived one impeachment, twenty-six accusations of sexual misconduct, and an estimated four thousand lawsuits.

The New Yorker

Yet, even knowing this, close to half of the country voted for him.

Understanding Moral Foundations

Jonathan Haidt, in his Ted Talk, looks at the moral roots in liberals and conservatives.  His thesis is that humans all have five foundations of morality that drive everything we do:

  • Harm/Care
  • Fairness/Reciprocity
  • In-Group/Loyalty
  • Authority/Respect
  • Purity/Sanctity

Both conservatives and liberals all agree on the first two points.  The split comes on the final three. In Haidt’s words:

Liberals reject three of these foundations. They say “No, let’s celebrate diversity, not common in-group membership.” They say, “Let’s question authority.” And they say, “Keep your laws off my body.”

Liberals have very noble motives for doing this. Traditional authority, traditional morality can be quite repressive, and restrictive to those at the bottom, to women, to people that don’t fit in. So liberals speak for the weak and oppressed. They want change and justice, even at the risk of chaos.

Conservatives, on the other hand, speak for institutions and traditions. They want order, even at some cost to those at the bottom.

So once you see this – once you see that liberals and conservatives both have something to contribute, that they form a balance on change versus stability – then I think the way is open to step outside the moral matrix.

Jonathan Haidt, Ted Talk

So, what next?  

Treat with Dignity

It begins with restoring relationship.  We need to learn anew how to listen to one another, daring to step outside our moral matrix.  And that, begins with treating one another with dignity.

Donna Hicks in her research identifies ten essential elements of dignity:

  • Acceptance of Identity Approach people as neither inferior nor superior to you; give others the freedom to express their authentic selves without fear of being negatively judged; interact without prejudice or bias, accepting how race, religion, gender, class, sexual orientation, age, disability, etc. are at the core of their identities. Assume they have integrity.
  • Recognition Validate others for their talents, hard work, thoughtfulness, and help; be generous with praise; give credit to others for their contributions, ideas and experience.
  • Acknowledgment Give people your full attention by listening, hearing, validating and responding to their concerns and what they have been through.
  • Inclusion Make others feel that they belong at all levels of relationship (family, community, organization, nation).
  • Safety Put people at ease at two levels: physically, where they feel free of bodily harm; and psychologically, where they feel free of concern about being shamed or humiliated, that they feel free to speak without fear of retribution.
  • Fairness Treat people justly, with equality, and in an evenhanded way, according to agreed upon laws and rules.
  • Independence Empower people to act on their own behalf so that they feel in control of their lives and experience a sense of hope and possibility.
  • Understanding Believe that what others think matters; give them the chance to explain their perspectives, express their points of view; actively listen in order to understand them.
  • Benefit of the Doubt Treat people as trustworthy; start with the premise that others have good motives and are acting with integrity.
  • Accountability Take responsibility for your actions; if you have violated the dignity of another, apologize; make a commitment to change hurtful behaviors.

Perhaps a place to start is committing to practice one essential aspect of dignity.

Everyone lies.  And, everyone has a truth to speak.  Are we willing to listen beyond the finger pointing and distaste that we might find wholeness born out of our brokenness?


Two Competencies

Nurturing the Poet & Prophet

In this election season, I’d like to invite you to explore two leadership competencies that I believe are essential for 21st century change makers: that of poet and prophet.  Now, before you say that you are neither a poet or prophet, I would ask that you hang in there with me.  I’m not asking you to begin writing poetry (although you might surprise yourself).  Nor am I asking you to become a modern-day Elijah (contemporary prophets come in many forms).  Rather, I am asking you to approach your daily tasks from the perspective of both the poet and prophet.

Articulators of Experience

First, some working definitions. Alan Roxburgh describes poets as: 

The articulators of experience and the rememberers of tradition.  They image and symbolize the unarticulated experience of the community, identifying and expressing the soul of the people.  The poet is a listener and an observer, sensing the experience of the body and giving that experience a voice.

Many voices compete for our allegiance.  The poet helps us to remember who we are that we might reclaim the integrity of core identity and character.  Beyond the quick fix, beyond the challenges of our times, the poet helps to draw people into hope for the future.  Through image and story, the poet shapes meaning out of chaos that memories might be shared and new visions emerge.  The poet weaves together the disparate (and often, dissonant) voices into a rich tapestry of story and meaning that neither reduces, nor eliminates creative tensions, but rather nurtures exploration of new collective possibilities.   

The Voice of Truth

But, as Roxburgh points out, “Without the prophetic voice, poetic leadership is little more than adaptation and consolation.”    The prophetic voice is the voice of truth.  As we come to claim the truth about their present state of being – the good, the bad, and the ugly – we are invited into a paradoxical experience of loss and hope.   Nurturing community in the 21st century involves a delicate dance of repentance as we acknowledge real concerns and delight as we yield to the possibilities born of an alternative vision.

Taken Together

Taken together, nurturing the poet and prophet sets us free to invite the larger community into a place compassion can be nurtured for the flourishing of all.  So, to begin, I invite you to reacquaint yourself with poetic and prophetic voices who have shaped your life.  

Deep peace,



Reacquaint yourself with the poet and prophet within!

Please celebrate me home

Please, celebrate me home, Give me a number, 

Please, celebrate me home, Play me one more song, 

That I’ll always remember, And I can recall, 

Whenever I find myself too all alone, I can sing me home.

Kenny Loggins

Those of a particular generation will remember Kenny Loggin’s song, Please Celebrate Me Home. Haunting and filled with yearning, the song speaks of the hunger that is within us all to come home.  Home, such an evocative word that carries with it a powerful mix of emotions.  How many of us yearn for home in this time of Covid-19?

Home and Call

For me, Connecticut holds strong roots. While my husband grew up in Houston and I in New York, Connecticut was our first home together. We met, courted, married, and had our first home in Connecticut.  Our daughter Elizabeth was born in Connecticut.  We never planned to leave, until the journey became our home.

From Connecticut to Pittsburgh, to San Diego, to Amish Country, to Chicago, the journey was our home.  Yet, through it all the tug to return home remained.  In words of the poet:

We shall not cease from exploration and the end of all our exploring

Will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time.

TS Eliot

We are now back in Connecticut.  We have arrived where we started.  But we are not the same people who left. Nor is Connecticut the same place.

We are coming to know the place for the first time. To do so, we have had to reclaim parts of ourselves. We have also had to release expectations of what we had once known. It has been for us an invitation to participate anew in the ancient cycle of call toward the flourishing of people and planet.

The Cycle of Call

Marjorie Zoet Bankson in The Call of Soul defines “call as an invitation to wholeness, a spiritual prompting to complete the work of love that we are here to do.”  She invites us to explore call through a sixfold cycle:

  • Resistance What are the patterns of resistance in your life right now? What do these patterns have to tell you about your person, your relationship with people and planet, and your work (in that order!)?
  • Reclaiming In reclaiming, we seek the form behind our skills, the original seed of call, the DNA of our souls. Reclaiming is not simply a process of reminiscence but of observation and action. What essential part of self are you being called to reclaim?
  • Revelation happens in the cusp between kairos and chronos time.  It brings ambivalence and uncertainty, possibility and potential danger. This is the way new vision is born. What is being revealed to your heart?
  • Crossing Over True revelation demands a response. It demands a crossing over, coupled with a willingness to be changed, healed, and expanded as we confront the barriers between belief and embodiment. To cross over we must confront our fears. To what must you attend, in order to cross over? 
  • Risk Deep within us is planted the seed of new creation, dreams for a better world and the hope that our vision for a new tomorrow can be realized. We need to act to make our dreams real. Risk is the courage to change; it requires that we be willing to fail as well as succeed. How are you being called to risk?
  • Relate Call cannot be fully manifested without community. Community that takes seriously the call to shared purpose. Yet dwelling in community is neither easy nor orderly. To whom do you relate?
  • Release Completing a cycle of soulwork means integration, endings, and release. Release calls for generativity as we give our call away and begin the cycle anew. Release is a stage of rest and listening. It involves learning to let go in order that the future might emerge. What aspect of your present life do you need to release in order to live forward?

Coming Home

There is a tendency to want to return to simpler times. In truth, I don’t believe there ever were simpler times, just different. Each generation must reclaim and risk. Each individual must relate and release. There will always be resistance to letting go. Receiving revelation will always require crossing over to the new. Yet when we dare to be changed, healed, and grown, we come home to ourselves and our world. We come to know our place for the first time. No wonder the thought of home brings such yearning. 

We are not the first to live in challenging times. The question is how will we respond? May we commit to celebrating one another home… for the sake of people and planet!

#poetsprophets #pivotprojects #consciousleadership

Out of the hollow… Joy!


Yesterday I was challenged by soul friend Judi Neal to name the joy that is at the center of who I am and what I do.  In this season where death is encountered daily across the globe and chaos ensues, joy must be named with care, so as not to discount the challenging times in which we find ourselves.  At the same time, when we fail to acknowledge joy, we dishonor the paradoxical reality that joy is often best understood in tumultuous times. 

Out of Grief

The joy of which I speak is not a surface emotion, but a deep, abiding reality that shapes and forms us—in season and out.  Desert Father Abba Poeman speaks of the paradoxical nature of joy when he reminds us: The greater the hollow carved out in grief, the more room for joy to dwell therein.  There is much to distract us from joy in this season.  We cannot ignore the deep pain of our present reality.  Yet without joy, our attempts toward transformation risk becoming a brittle facsimile of life.   

Laughter, Exaltation, and Joy

One of my favorite blessings comes from an 11th monastic:

May the Son of God who is already formed in you, grow in you—

so that for you, he will become immeasurable, 

and that in you, he will become laughter, exaltation, and the fullness of joy, 

which no one can take away.

Isaac of Stella

What a wonderful image.  Laughter, exaltation and the fullness of joy!  Whatever our tradition or practice, we do well to connect soul with Source that we might know laughter, exaltation and joy, even (especially!) in the midst of grief.  It is then that we come to accept that life is never a state of either/or, but always both/and.  Shadow and light.  Brokenness and wholeness.  Grief and joy.

Joy, a Practical Necessity

Joy enters our lives in the most unexpected of ways and places.  It is not something to be reserved for the good times, but a way of being woven into the fabric of our lives.   We live in challenging times.  Times that make joy not only a spiritual, but practical necessity.  

How will you practice JOY in this season?

Without joy, our attempts toward transformation risk becoming a brittle facsimile of life.   

man in black shirt and gray denim pants sitting on gray padded bench

Sometimes healing hurts

The wound is the place where the Light enters you.

― Rumi


Remember when you were little and you fell and scraped your knee?  All you wanted was to put a Band-Aid on the cut and get back to playing, but instead your mom would insist on washing it and spraying Bactine on it—ouch!  How that stung!  

Then there are the muscle and ligament sprains and strains.  I remember a doctor telling me once that it would have hurt less if I had broken the bone.  While I healed, it took a long time.  Worse yet, was the time my brother dislocated a shoulder and had to have it manipulated by the doctor back into place—it was painful just to watch.  

Last year, I fell on the ice and put off going to the chiropractor.  By the time I made the appointment, I had so over-compensated for the pain of the fall that it hurt to have my body put back into alignment. 

Sometimes healing hurts!

Beyond physical healing…

Beyond physical healing, there is also the pain of healing emotional and spiritual wounds.  Sometimes the wounds are buried so deep, we can’t even remember the source of the wound—it’s simply too painful.  The challenge is that without remembering, the wounds continue to fester and get in the way of  living. 

Often, our wounds trigger reactive responses that are disproportionate to the circumstances.  The challenge is that until we address our wounds, we will continue to experience strain in our relationships and brokenness in community.  Therein, lies the paradox, our wounds are the place for the light to enter in!

A Reframing

What might happen if we reframed our understanding of wounds as the Light seeking to enter into us? Enter those we love (and those we don’t)… our country and across the world… even our environment and planet?  What if we came to understand this present “dark night” as the wound that has the power to lead to oneness?  How might that reshape our response to present times?

Sometimes healing hurts, Never forget “the wound is the place where the Light enters you”!

What might happen if we reframed our understanding of wounds as the Light seeking to enter into us? Enter those we love (and those we don’t)… our country and across the world… our environment and our planet?