Recently, I was at a get together where two older women were talking to a teenage girl about the importance of going to church and knowing the Lord Jesus. The girl and her family were not church goers. Personally, I really dislike proselytizing. It places the ones preaching in a superior position to the one being preached to. People who supposedly have the answers try to persuade the ones who supposedly don't have the answers to believe like they do. I'm right, you're wrong. The girl was listening politely, trying to be respectful to her elders, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Eventually, the two women looked to me for confirmation for what they were saying. I thought a moment and then told the girl that what I'm about to share is my opinion. It's something that is helpful to me, but doesn't mean she should believe it. I said what has been important to me in my relationship with the Divine is self-compassion. For me, self-compassion has helped to build a solid basis of love within me. And from that solid basis, love then comes forth toward others. When she heard this, I saw the girl's face light up. She smiled and nodded. I felt this was a moment when I stood up and expressed my voice.
I was born with a cleft lip and palate and endured much teasing as a child. The first time I stood up to preach as a teenager at an Easter sunrise service, claim my power given to me by God. Since then I stood up to preach and speak as a Minister of Christian Ed , a pastor, correctional and hospice chaplain until I retired last December. But what really energizes me is when I stand up as an oral storyteller to tell folktales and sacred stories. Standing up has brought me a long way from being a teased kid.
I bought 2 tickets to the concert on November 22 and I thought they were at St Barnabas Episcopal Church, but this one says Transfiguration spirituality center. Where is it or is this in the same area?
Even while possessing many of the privileges our society values, I’ve struggled with feeling like a child destined to sit on the porch and watch all the other kids playing in the yard. I felt I was not one who…(fill in the blank.) Standing up, claiming a voice, being who I not only was, but who I was in the process of becoming, has been a challenge. So I pause and honor those who have, are, and will stand up and claim their voices, and especially those who don’t possess all the privileges I too often take for granted. I can only know a small taste of the bravery required for you to stand, speak, and take your place on any stage. A deep bow to you.
Thank you so much Carrie for your stand up writing. Now is the moment that we all must stand for what is to me one of the most important moments in my life. When I think about women standing up the first person I think of is my Momma. It was not easy being the "preacher's wife". To a lot of people that was all she was but us who knew her knew better. My Daddy was in the spotlight of course being the preacher but Momma showed her 4 daughters you stand up and be seen. She said things like: "Church members are going to talk about you no matter what so I am going to dress the way I want and be who I am. I suggest you do the same thing." With my Daddy working so much and having to put needs of others first she always made sure he had time for her and time for us girls. My Daddy was a Republican and my Momma a Democratic back when most women were told to think like their husbands. She would say to my Daddy:"You go on and vote and I am going to come right behind you and cancel that vote." Oh how my Daddy would laugh at that. We lost my Daddy when he was only 62 but once again Momma showed us how to stand up and walk a new path. It wasn't easy but she found her way. This woman once again showed her daughter and others how to stand up when she developed Alzheimer's. We started raising money and learned all we could about ALZ. It was our way to stand up for her. Even though she lost that battle with ALZ I feel her standing with me every day and whispering in my ear " Stand up and be seen. You got this."
I love this story about you Momma. What an amazing soul and spirit. How important to lift up the shoulders we stand upon, the ones that encouraged and modeled being true to our selves and gifts. Yes, she is standing with you every day. Amen.
Dear Carrie, it is such an irony that you were rejected for choir in high school, Yet, it is so typical of how truly talented people just keep putting one foot in front of the other traveling toward their dreams, which is what you did. It reminds me of a story I heard in documentary about Fred Astaire. On his first film tryout, the director wrote about Fred "Can't act, can't sing, dances some." Right now I am in Italy putting one foot in front of the other in a new challenge, working with some young students this coming week in Abruzzo who want to share stories about their hometown of 300 inhabitants on radio and in a podcast. I am supposed to mentor them. It will all be in Italian, which I have been trying to master since 2017 with perhaps dubious success. Yet onward, students! Onward, my feet! Thanks so much for this lovely reflection today. Sending lots of love.
Have a wonderful time in Abruzzo, and congrats on stepping up to this growing edge of learning communicating in a new language! Hurray for you my friend. Yes, there is a bit of irony in this story, I guess that is part of why I tell it. At some point, most of us will experience push back on who we are and what we love. It’s not easy, it takes a lot of love and self compassion, courage to center ourselves in our authentic selves, speak from our true heart. It also helps to find kindred spirits who encourage and get that our most powerful voice will always be our truest voice. To be a poet is an agreement with the cosmos to speak the truth as well and beautifully as we know how. Thank you for following your true voice, your deep calling, and continuing to inspire us as you step up to this next growing edge!
This really deserves a long conversation (and apologies for this very long post!), but this morning’s note drives the question of how we can respect one anothers’ journeys without judgment, without taking offense, and within an understanding of a deeply shared world and destiny.
I am honestly thrilled with the possibility of women’s political leadership, and believe it long overdue. We owe it to ourselves to more thoroughly explore these possibilities, and to continue to empower women to speak their truths and to stand unafraid. The track record of male leadership is not good.
On my annual long walk now, the differences are graphic, and sad. It would be profoundly unsafe for a woman to make this journey, or, for that matter, for anyone not gifted with maleness, whiteness, and adequate financial resources. Owning this is an important part of the walk.
How can I best share this nascent empowerment?
As a musician, I have gone the opposite way, choosing to sing from a stool in the corner, leaving room for others’ voices, preferring supportive ensemble work to solo efforts.
But back to the topic of feet, it has only been in these last couple of days of the walk that I have realized that my choosing to make this journey, while a physical challenge, is also an exercise in powerlessness. I am “taking more time and covering less ground”; I am smaller than the cars and trucks passing me by and dependent on them quite literally to stay in their lane. Several times on this trip have I had to rely on others to keep me safe: being rescued from a sudden thunderstorm by an unknown soul, or being given direction and guidance by locals who know more than I.
I am conditioned by unfortunate American social expectations of men to be embarrassed if I need help. But I continue to learn that our sharing of needs and strengths makes the social web so much more resilient.
Yet all the while, even as we progress on this growing edge, the unimaginable losses at our very own hands in Sudan, Gaza, Lebanon, and elsewhere provide no comfort.
There is so much in this rich post. Thank you for your perspective, caring and dedication to a mindful and compassionate walk in this world. Yes, sometimes we learn how to sing standing on our own two feet. Sometimes we learn to sing with a glorious choir. Keep walking, keep singing. Thank you for your story that lifts up what is challenging and what is expanding the idea of authentic living for men too, at this next growing edge!
"In my experience, the things we love will ask us to take brave steps outside our safety zones. Courage has nothing to do with being fearless. Courage has everything to do with loving someone or something so much you’ll risk the scary parts"
Does it ever, especially in "these times" keep on "standing up and taking names"
Recently, I was at a get together where two older women were talking to a teenage girl about the importance of going to church and knowing the Lord Jesus. The girl and her family were not church goers. Personally, I really dislike proselytizing. It places the ones preaching in a superior position to the one being preached to. People who supposedly have the answers try to persuade the ones who supposedly don't have the answers to believe like they do. I'm right, you're wrong. The girl was listening politely, trying to be respectful to her elders, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Eventually, the two women looked to me for confirmation for what they were saying. I thought a moment and then told the girl that what I'm about to share is my opinion. It's something that is helpful to me, but doesn't mean she should believe it. I said what has been important to me in my relationship with the Divine is self-compassion. For me, self-compassion has helped to build a solid basis of love within me. And from that solid basis, love then comes forth toward others. When she heard this, I saw the girl's face light up. She smiled and nodded. I felt this was a moment when I stood up and expressed my voice.
Beautifully written. Thanks for acknowledging those of us with mobility issues. I also try to not take for granted my ability to see and read.
I was born with a cleft lip and palate and endured much teasing as a child. The first time I stood up to preach as a teenager at an Easter sunrise service, claim my power given to me by God. Since then I stood up to preach and speak as a Minister of Christian Ed , a pastor, correctional and hospice chaplain until I retired last December. But what really energizes me is when I stand up as an oral storyteller to tell folktales and sacred stories. Standing up has brought me a long way from being a teased kid.
I bought 2 tickets to the concert on November 22 and I thought they were at St Barnabas Episcopal Church, but this one says Transfiguration spirituality center. Where is it or is this in the same area?
Even while possessing many of the privileges our society values, I’ve struggled with feeling like a child destined to sit on the porch and watch all the other kids playing in the yard. I felt I was not one who…(fill in the blank.) Standing up, claiming a voice, being who I not only was, but who I was in the process of becoming, has been a challenge. So I pause and honor those who have, are, and will stand up and claim their voices, and especially those who don’t possess all the privileges I too often take for granted. I can only know a small taste of the bravery required for you to stand, speak, and take your place on any stage. A deep bow to you.
Thank you so much Carrie for your stand up writing. Now is the moment that we all must stand for what is to me one of the most important moments in my life. When I think about women standing up the first person I think of is my Momma. It was not easy being the "preacher's wife". To a lot of people that was all she was but us who knew her knew better. My Daddy was in the spotlight of course being the preacher but Momma showed her 4 daughters you stand up and be seen. She said things like: "Church members are going to talk about you no matter what so I am going to dress the way I want and be who I am. I suggest you do the same thing." With my Daddy working so much and having to put needs of others first she always made sure he had time for her and time for us girls. My Daddy was a Republican and my Momma a Democratic back when most women were told to think like their husbands. She would say to my Daddy:"You go on and vote and I am going to come right behind you and cancel that vote." Oh how my Daddy would laugh at that. We lost my Daddy when he was only 62 but once again Momma showed us how to stand up and walk a new path. It wasn't easy but she found her way. This woman once again showed her daughter and others how to stand up when she developed Alzheimer's. We started raising money and learned all we could about ALZ. It was our way to stand up for her. Even though she lost that battle with ALZ I feel her standing with me every day and whispering in my ear " Stand up and be seen. You got this."
I love this story about you Momma. What an amazing soul and spirit. How important to lift up the shoulders we stand upon, the ones that encouraged and modeled being true to our selves and gifts. Yes, she is standing with you every day. Amen.
Dear Carrie, it is such an irony that you were rejected for choir in high school, Yet, it is so typical of how truly talented people just keep putting one foot in front of the other traveling toward their dreams, which is what you did. It reminds me of a story I heard in documentary about Fred Astaire. On his first film tryout, the director wrote about Fred "Can't act, can't sing, dances some." Right now I am in Italy putting one foot in front of the other in a new challenge, working with some young students this coming week in Abruzzo who want to share stories about their hometown of 300 inhabitants on radio and in a podcast. I am supposed to mentor them. It will all be in Italian, which I have been trying to master since 2017 with perhaps dubious success. Yet onward, students! Onward, my feet! Thanks so much for this lovely reflection today. Sending lots of love.
Have a wonderful time in Abruzzo, and congrats on stepping up to this growing edge of learning communicating in a new language! Hurray for you my friend. Yes, there is a bit of irony in this story, I guess that is part of why I tell it. At some point, most of us will experience push back on who we are and what we love. It’s not easy, it takes a lot of love and self compassion, courage to center ourselves in our authentic selves, speak from our true heart. It also helps to find kindred spirits who encourage and get that our most powerful voice will always be our truest voice. To be a poet is an agreement with the cosmos to speak the truth as well and beautifully as we know how. Thank you for following your true voice, your deep calling, and continuing to inspire us as you step up to this next growing edge!
😊💗
This really deserves a long conversation (and apologies for this very long post!), but this morning’s note drives the question of how we can respect one anothers’ journeys without judgment, without taking offense, and within an understanding of a deeply shared world and destiny.
I am honestly thrilled with the possibility of women’s political leadership, and believe it long overdue. We owe it to ourselves to more thoroughly explore these possibilities, and to continue to empower women to speak their truths and to stand unafraid. The track record of male leadership is not good.
On my annual long walk now, the differences are graphic, and sad. It would be profoundly unsafe for a woman to make this journey, or, for that matter, for anyone not gifted with maleness, whiteness, and adequate financial resources. Owning this is an important part of the walk.
How can I best share this nascent empowerment?
As a musician, I have gone the opposite way, choosing to sing from a stool in the corner, leaving room for others’ voices, preferring supportive ensemble work to solo efforts.
But back to the topic of feet, it has only been in these last couple of days of the walk that I have realized that my choosing to make this journey, while a physical challenge, is also an exercise in powerlessness. I am “taking more time and covering less ground”; I am smaller than the cars and trucks passing me by and dependent on them quite literally to stay in their lane. Several times on this trip have I had to rely on others to keep me safe: being rescued from a sudden thunderstorm by an unknown soul, or being given direction and guidance by locals who know more than I.
I am conditioned by unfortunate American social expectations of men to be embarrassed if I need help. But I continue to learn that our sharing of needs and strengths makes the social web so much more resilient.
Yet all the while, even as we progress on this growing edge, the unimaginable losses at our very own hands in Sudan, Gaza, Lebanon, and elsewhere provide no comfort.
While we remain, may we better find our way.
There is so much in this rich post. Thank you for your perspective, caring and dedication to a mindful and compassionate walk in this world. Yes, sometimes we learn how to sing standing on our own two feet. Sometimes we learn to sing with a glorious choir. Keep walking, keep singing. Thank you for your story that lifts up what is challenging and what is expanding the idea of authentic living for men too, at this next growing edge!
Thank you for standing up and singing out what is True and Real.
You go girl! You inspire us all!
"In my experience, the things we love will ask us to take brave steps outside our safety zones. Courage has nothing to do with being fearless. Courage has everything to do with loving someone or something so much you’ll risk the scary parts"
Does it ever, especially in "these times" keep on "standing up and taking names"