Archive for August, 2008

Deconstructing the Soul

My soul work these days has been the work of deconstruction.

A strange word, deconstruction. It sounds like the hyper-intellectual, post-modern mental construct it’s purported to be. With such a hoity-toity name it should be something one chooses to do to make oneself look cool in the eyes of all the modern losers gathered ’round.

Sometimes, however, the soul knows and does its work, regardless of how some philosopher describes (or prescribes) the task. That would be me. And sometimes the soul keeps at it, long after the mind wants to move on to other things.

My soul continues to deconstruct just about everything in its purview. It started in earnest about 5 years ago with my faith system, and has kept munching away at other things right through this very day. As a philosophical process, deconstruction is a stimulating endeavor. As soul work, deconstruction is, well, a little unsettling.

My soul is looking for essentials. In the process I’m trying not to over-grieve the loss of peripherals. I continue to experience anger, however, when I am faced with the investment I’ve made in those things that lie in rubble before me. They seemed like a sure thing at the time. And I try not to tremble, when I find something essential I dare not lose, though the vulnerability of it takes my breath away. These are my soul’s bruised reeds and smoldering wicks, and I can only hope they’re in good hands.

I’m grateful for a group of kindreds who yesterday let me know that all is not lost, that I am not lost, and that the work I’m doing is worth the rubble. 

What are you deconstructing?

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Here’s the Deal…

I’m in the process of gathering up my ideas to launch my life coaching business. I’m looking for a business name and tagline that captures the essence of who I am and what I do with people, without sounding like a Tony Robbins cliche.

I need help, so here’s the deal:

Please get creative and brainstorm with me. Offer me your ideas in the comments section, and if your idea gets picked I’ll give you a free coaching session, a foo-foo coffee drink at your favorite coffee shop, or…

I’ll think of something good. Please. I’m serious.

I’m desperate here.

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August Mush

I don’t care much for August. It’s kind of the dregs of summer. So many things undone. So hot. So lazy and futile, as in, “what’s the use, it’s going to be fall soon.”
I’m sure I could change my attitude if I could spend the month on vacation someplace cool, like a cabin in Glacier National Park, or on the beach at Maui. What About Bob? taught me that in the east, all the shrinks take the month of August off. I could live with that, as long as I got to go to Lake Winnipesaukee and learn to sail.

Alas, no. I’m here in Denver, and working. Some.

I know, we have the Olympics to watch, and the Democratic National Convention, right here in town. I should be grateful.

I should. I am, really.

But I’m sure they have TV in Lake Winnipesaukee.

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Exercise is another love/hate thing, except for the love. 

I went for a bike ride this morning, It was a chore the whole time. Maybe my biorhythms are all down today. It was all I could do not to swear continuously. 

My brain does not release those wonderful endorphins most people get with exercise. Runner’s high? Not for me. Never felt it, even when I was young and in shape. Trust me, I was once young and in shape. Athletic even. In high school, me and Colleen lettered in tennis. Didn’t we, Colleen?

In fact, it’s thanks to Colleen that I learned tennis at all. She found us lessons, dragged us to the court, and consistently practiced with me, even though I was the biggest brat on the court. Ever. We were 13. She made me join the tennis team in high school, convincing me the letter would be worth it. It was. We were officially jocks.

But back to endorphins. I could use a few right now.

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Love it, hate it

I have an ongoing, love/hate relationship with writing.

(all writers say, “duh – that’s what writing IS“)

Today I’m going to a writing salon, to sit in the company of other writers and be stimulated in the craft. 

Hopefully they have a pair of jumper cables.


later that afternoon (post-jump start)

in response to the prompt, “Everyday I consider…”

Everyday I consider who I am in the world and who I want to be. Which version, which story will I tell today, and can I let go of my stories, and just be? And in being, to be content.

This is the secret I will to apprehend. The serenity of the present moment and the treasures to be had therein. Freed from judgments of the past and concerns of the future, what wealth is available when I look to the moment?

A step into divine life, a swim in the river of spirit, the present is the I AM, the place where God lives. My presence, my attention, is all that is required.

What faith, what trust, to step into this Oz, this Narnia, this kingdom of heaven that is at hand.


and then, in response to “There is a place where…”

There is a place where the candy scent of pine floats on a whisper

Where silence first deafens, then soothes my soul

Where the sky, so blue, can grace the world

and the clouds float by, just because.

There is a place where the ground meets my boots

And the trail takes me where my heart belongs

There is a place where I remember I am home

On this earth, I belong, and am hers.

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