Fulfilling a Bucket List Wish for Karen

Karen, Dodi, Kathy, Marty, Linda

The authors of Sophia's Table: Women's Wisdom in Five Voices fulfilled one of Karen's bucket list wishes. She wanted to celebrate her birthday with special friends by spending a weekend in Berea, Kentucky. Here we are after Karen's birthday dinner in the historic Boone Tavern Hotel and Restaurant, our home for the weekend. 

Boone Tavern, a LEED Gold Certified Green Hotel, is intricately connected to Berea College, founded in 1855 as the first interracial and coeducational college in the South. Berea charges no tuition and admits only academically promising students, primarily from Appalachia, who have limited economic resources. However, student do come from all over the USA and from more than 60 countries representing a rich diversity of colors, cultures, and faiths. About one in three students represents an ethnic minority.

In an effort to educate the whole person, student labor is a central part of the environment at Berea. Sharing in work promotes community and prepares students for the workplace as they provide service to the College and broader community. They are expected to celebrate work well done, exhibiting the Christian values of human compassion, dignity, and equality. The College has an inclusive Christian character, expressed in its motto, ”God has made of one blood all peoples of the Earth.”  

That was certainly our experience as we were served by students at the desk and in the dining room at Boone Tavern. Friday evening, we approached a server in the dining room. "We'd like to have desert on the porch. Is that possible?"

Valerie responded, "We can make that happen for you."

Valerie, a delightful young woman, recently graduated with a major in psychology. She responded to our curiosity about her. "I wasn't sure I'd meet their qualifications, but my mother encouraged me to apply anyway." Then she added with a chuckle, "When I got my acceptance letter, my mom said it was the first time she was glad to be poor." 

We inquired about the student body, unaware that students came from outside Kentucky. "Oh, students come from all over the world. In fact, I met my husband here and he's from Afghanistan."

One member of our group could not enjoy desert with the rest of us on the stately white columned porch. She has a gluten intolerance. And so, Valerie talked with the Chef and when we celebrated Karen's birthday the next evening in the dining room, there were gluten-free chocolate tortes just for our party.

Berea College is home to a student crafts program committed to preserving traditional Appalachian arts. The town grew around the college. Berea is home to a thriving population of potters, weavers, instrument makers, furniture artisans, jewelry designers, glass workers, painters, sculptors, and musicians. The weather was perfect for our visit, so we greatly enjoyed visiting the many shops that are part of the charm of Berea.

The college also has a longstanding tradition of diversity, social justice, environmental responsibility, and community service. Both the college and the town are committed to the practice of sustainability. Several of the students choose to live "off-the-grid" in the school's Eco-Village, community artists have "adopted" rain barrels to raise conservation awareness, and the town itself has committed to a strategic plan to promote sustainable eco-tourism.

Karen beamed the whole weekend as we all enjoyed helping her celebrate another milestone in her life in this unique locale. Only three hours from Dayton, we'd all recommend this historic town and college as a great get away destination. 

Ponderings:
What's on your bucket list?
How do you honor your unique spirit on your birthday?

A safari in Africa is on my bucket list. I'd love to see the majesty of wild animals in their native habitat while they are still there. I've been hearing many reports about people, including Prince William, who are devoting their lives to protecting these magnificent creatures. I'm grateful for their efforts.

"God danced the day you were born!"
Andrew Lawrence

Sophia's Table Book Signing

Tonight was a big night for the authors of Sophia's Table: Women's Wisdom in Five Voices. We held a book signing at Kettering Library and at least fifty and maybe more of our supporters came to honor us.

We each shared how we got involved in Karen's contemplative writing group, what the group came to mean to us, and how Sophia's Table emerged as a collaboration among us. Then we each read a couple of pieces from our part of the book. 

What a thrill it was to sign books as published authors.  

We want to thank all those who came and helped make this such a special event. We ended our evening celebrating with our guests. 

Karen, Marty, Kathy, Linda, & Dodi

The Language I Speak

I was inside the huge dining room at Omega, sitting alone at one of their big round tables having breakfast. Nian approached, “Is it OK if I join you?” I was happy for the company.

“What workshop are you taking?”

“Memoir Lab with Marge Piercy and Ira Wood.”

         

“Oh, I wanted to take that one but I signed up at the last minute and didn’t have time to read their book, so I thought I’d better not.” Then she shared vulnerably about her reason for “just needing to get away” for the weekend. “Would you mind telling me your story?”

I told her mine and she told me hers. We shared vulnerably and connected meaningfully through the stories that have shaped our lives...through our attempts to make sense of them...to find meaning in them. Within minutes we were in the depths with each other.

As we got up to leave for our respective classes, Nian looked at me and said, “You know, if we had met on the street, we would never have talked. Here I am in my hippie garb...and I looked at you and thought, ‘There’s a good Christian woman.’” Even in that, Nian shared authentically. I laughed heartily at her honesty.

In all probability I will never see Nian again. Yet I feel exceptionally close to her. I find it rare in our culture to move to these vulnerable, authentic depths. However, at Omega, most people were quite comfortable in the deep...speaking my language...my metaphor for making deep, meaningful connections, something I crave, an environment in which I thrive.

I felt a safety at Omega that I generally do not experience. I am an introvert in a world that values extroverts. That it makes sense that I generally do not experience safety became all too clear in a recent column in the Huffington Post. It seems that as recently as 2010 the American Psychiatric Association thought about classifying “introverted personality” as a disorder in the newest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manuel. In some ways it was a shock to learn that some consider us interior quiet types as mentally ill. In other ways, it is not so shocking. My family, my mother in particular, worried aloud on more than one occasion in the presence of others, “What’s wrong with Linda....” They, too, were not comfortable with my way of being in the world.

The Huffington Post article went on to list twenty-three characteristics of interior quiet types that gave me some clues about “the language” I speak. Many people interpret our need for solitude to recharge our batteries as not liking people. That is far from our truth. I actually crave the mutual vulnerability that results in authentic connection. I am not comfortable with idle chatter because of the barrier I experience it creating between people. Despite being accused of being too intense, I value thought-provoking, philosophical conversations like the one I shared with Nian. I dislike being in groups where conversation gets tossed around like hot potatoes. It takes me awhile to process my thoughts and find a way to express them. I feel much more articulate when I write than when I speak. My best creativity comes when I’m alone and can think things through without interruption. But in fast-paced groups, even when I finally have something to contribute, I can’t get in. I wind up feeling lonely and invisible. I much prefer groups where turns are taken or a leader makes sure that everyone has a chance to have their say.

I was at Omega during family week. There were lots of kids and teens with their families who return for this experience every year. High energy abounded. Omega’s mission is “awakening the best in the human spirit.” The support being given to everyone was phenomenal. Aspiring young musicians staged a concert for us one evening, the culmination of their week of being taught how to perform. We adults in the audience hooted and hollered in support of them, clapping and dancing to their music. It brought tears to my eyes. What a confidence builder for them. I see great things ahead for them. And I wonder what my life might have been like had I experienced that kind of support at their age.

Being among people who speak my language at Omega had a profound influence upon me at my age. I experienced myself being seen, known, and valued, sometimes in most surprising ways. Upon hearing my story, I was told by one attractive 30ish blonde in the Memoir Lab that I am an inspiration to her, that despite the difficulties I've faced in my life, I'm still growing. "I'll remember you." That meant so much to me. Another equally attractive 50ish blonde from the Relax and Write class told me that I’m her favorite writer in our group. I was astounded. There were some very accomplished writers in our group of about thirty-five. She looked at me like I was a celebrity. That night I had difficulty sleeping. I hardly knew myself. It took awhile for it all to sink in. These experiences reminded me of what a beloved seminary professor said to me once, “I don’t think you know the impact you have on others.”

And how could I? When the majority in our culture devalues quiet interiority and some see it as a disorder...when my family worries about something being wrong with me, it has an impact. It has been difficult for me to fathom that I might actually have a positive effect on others...especially when I am relaxed and just being my authentic self, as I was able to be at Omega. I was freer there because I imagined that I would never see those folks again.

I give gratitude for those small pockets of safety where quiet, interior types are seen, valued, and nurtured, where there is space for the speaking of our language, where deep, meaningful connections are made. I am grateful for a phone call I received earlier today from a dear friend right here in Dayton. We dove right into the deep and stayed there for over an hour of meaningful connection. Down there in the deep, my soul is fed and my spirit thrives. Those spaces remind me that I do indeed make a positive impact. I need that. I think we all do.

Ponderings: 
What feeds your soul? 
What makes your spirit thrive? 
What language do you speak?

"This is the soulful meaning of happiness: 

to live the life that is truly ours, 

to give the most of who we essentially are."  

Jack Weber

"The greatest gift you can give others is your best you—your healthiest you."

Joseph J. Sweere

Celebrating at Lily's Bistro

329 E. 5^th Street in the Oregon District

www.lilysbistro.com

Three of five authors, Karen, Kathy, and Linda, celebrated the publication of Sophia’s Table at Lily’s Bistro in the Oregon District last Saturday evening. Marty is vacationing in Wales and Dodi lives near Oxford, so they were unable to join us. We wanted to support a local establishment and decided to go someplace new to us. What a treat we were in for!!  

Lily’s is a mother-daughter venture. Lily is a combination of their two names LIsa (mother) and EmiLY (daughter). Since the by-line of our book is Women’s Wisdom in Five Voices, we really liked that we women were honoring these women. 

In good “daring greatly” fashion, I announced to the waitress that we were authors who had collaborated on a book that had just been published. Before we knew it, Emily was gifting us with three glasses of wine to toast our accomplishment. They treated us like royalty. What fun.

It was difficult to choose an entrée because we wanted to try everything on the menu. Kathy chose Greek orzo spinach salad, Karen chose pineapple-chipotle BBQ chicken (free-range), and Linda chose vegan pesto angel hair pasta. We added two of their unusual and terrific sides. Be sure to ask about their sides. There were lots of “Yum yum, this is really good,” expressed round the table. We gave a thumbs up to Executive Chef, Mariah Gahagan, who has worked at several other quality restaurant kitchens in our area.

Lily’s is owned by the Mendenhall family of Dayton. Blind Bob’s across the street is their father-son venture. It is named after father, Bob, who is gradually losing his sight as the result of a degenerative eye condition. Nate, the son, is the general manager. Emily returned to Dayton to manage Lily’s after working in restaurants in Chicago and New Orleans.  

Lily’s seats about 80 in the dining room and 75 on two charming outdoor patios. There is a private room that seats twelve. Menus will change four times a year with the seasons and include vegan and gluten-free options along with a variety of small plates. In addition to an extensive selection of cocktails, the bar serves a rotating, seasonal selection of craft beers and wines.

The Mendenhall’s are noted for treating their employees well and for giving back to the community. When another Oregon District restaurant closed and checks were bouncing, Blind Bob’s threw a benefit for Sidebar’s employees. It’s fun to hear the stories of locals who take the risk to provide the rest of us with quality products and entertainment. Kudos to the Mendenhall family! And thank you to Lily’s for an elegant and scrumptious dining experience. 

DDN on September 15 & Book Signing on October 1

I talked with Sharon Short today and she told me that Sophia's Table will be featured next Sunday in the Dayton Daily News. We very much appreciate her support.

Check out: Sharon Short's Literary Arts column
           Dayton Daily News
           Sunday, September 15, 2013. 

The five authors of Sophia's Table: Women's Wisdom in Five Voices will be offering an Author Roundtable on October 1. In addition to signing books, we'll share some of the stories from our book to nourish, comfort, and inspire you. We hope you will join us.

Mark your calendar: Tuesday, October 1 from 6:30-8.
                    Kettering-Moraine Library
                    3496 Far Hills Avenue  
                    (between Dorothy Lane & Stroop)

Formative Experiences in Florida in the Early Fifties

Here's a picture of the gasoline station my father purchased in 1951.

Dad was the kind of guy who never knew a stranger. Wish I had that attribute. He and Mom made friends with a Greek couple whose family owned a local deep sea fishing business. A part of their business was taking tourists on tours to demonstrate how they dove for sponges. Steve gave Dad an old sponge diving suit to hang in front of the station to attract tourists. We'd refer tourists to their dock. In exchange, we got to go deep sea fishing anytime we wanted for free.

Steve was 24, dark and handsome, and I had a crush on him. I was nine. He didn't have any children, so he doted on my brother and me. He went out of his way to ensure that we had a fantastic experience.

I'd heard tales of sea sickness, and was a little scared when we set sail on our first deep sea fishing excursion. Little did I know what a treat I was in for. Once we were in the Gulf of Mexico, out of sight of land, Steve excitedly called my brother and me to the front of the boat. He carefully lifted us over the bow so that we could see dolphins playing follow the leader along side. That began my love affair with these magnificent creatures.

Living in Florida for that year in the early 1950's formed who I would become in many ways. It was a part of my emerging into a fuller human being. It was a captivating experience. 

Something to ponder and share if you are willing: 

The early formative experiences I have had that contributed to me emerging into a fuller human being are...

An aside...twice in my adult life I've had an opportunity to swim with dolphins. What fun!!

"Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first."
Ernestine Ulmer

Memories During the 50th Anniversary Commemoration of the March on Washington

There were “Whites Only” signs over the one drinking fountain and one bathroom in the gasoline station my dad bought in 1951. Our family had just moved from Sidney, Ohio to Tarpon Springs, Florida. We had not been exposed to such blatant racism. We were confronted with attitudes that rendered “Negroes” as morally and intellectually inferior to whites.

Dad was fulfilling a dream of owning his own business, a place where he could utilize his skills as an automobile mechanic. It became a family business, with Mom pumping gas and changing oil. My brother and I hung out at the station after school probably getting more in the way than in helping out. My brother was eight and I was nine.

The white man who sold the station to Dad proved to us that it was his moral character that was lacking. He tried to teach Dad how to cheat blacks, giving them less gas or oil than they paid for. Dad would have none of that. A white employee proved to us that it was his moral character that was in question. He stole from us. On the other hand, we had a very different experience with blacks.

Once the station was his free and clear, the “Whites Only” signs came down. Word got around town that Dad and Mom treated blacks fairly and with respect. Many blacks became our customers. Some lacked the money to pay for the services they needed. So Dad gave them odd jobs in lieu of financial remuneration. He found them to be honest, hard workers. One day, a black customer asked to borrow money from Dad. Dad gave him the loan. The next day, this man returned the money, saying he didn’t need it after all. That happened shortly after the white employee absconded with our money.

Today, as I watch the 50^th Anniversary of the March on Washington, I remember my parents with pride. Their example made a huge impression on me. I credit their behavior in Florida with my interest in social justice issues.

We only stayed in Florida for a year. Owning his own business was more demanding on family time than my Dad had anticipated. So we moved to my mother’s hometown in Ohio. New Bremen is a little German farming community. It was uncommon to see people of color there. On occasion, a few blacks worked for the alfalfa mill on the edge of town, but I rarely saw them. One family with our same last name, Marshall, lost everything they owned in a house fire. My dad collected food and clothing for them. Someone in town asked him why he was doing that. “They’re my cousins,” he responded.

In 1959, my classmates and I were asked to participate in a contest to select the next editor of our high school newspaper, The Crimson and Gold. A group of teachers would chose the best editorial on the topic, “Integration: Now or Never.” The writer would be editor during our senior year. I received my first distinction as a writer. I now see that my selection had something to do with my skill as a writer. But I think my experiences witnessing bigotry and the injustice of Jim Crow laws in the South gave me a perspective that my classmates lacked.

Martin Luther King, Jr. was already gaining national prominence, years before the 1963 March on Washington. He led the 1955 Montgomery Bus Boycott and helped found the Southern Christian Leadership Conference in 1957. The fear that I heard expressed most often if blacks achieved their goals was that blacks and whites would begin to intermarry. I no longer have a copy of what I wrote in that editorial, but I remember trying to dispel white people’s fear.

In August 1963, I was working a summer job in New Bremen, preparing to enter my senior year at Bowling Green State University. I don’t remember hearing anything about the March on Washington. Even though my family believed in treating all people fairly and with respect, we were not social activists. It wasn’t until I was an adult that I met anyone who actually participated in that March. I regret missing it. Even so, we were in sympathy with the dream that was lifted up that day. My parents are gone now, but if they were still here, they, like me, would be in sympathy with the dream that is being lifted up in Washington today. Yes, progress has been made. But the dream remains unfulfilled.   

My parents lived long enough to see Barack Obama elected President. We were thrilled. Mom died shortly after his election. Dad’s health was failing, too. He wanted to stick around to see how Obama handled the challenges our country was facing in 2008. He just could not do it. He died seventeen days before the inauguration. If he were still here, we’d be watching the 50^th Anniversary Commemoration together and having a lively conversation. I miss him. My parent’s example in 1951-52 contributed to making me into a more compassionate person. For that I am grateful on this historic anniversary.

Ponderings:
What were the examples that influenced you at a young age?
How did these examples shape the kind of person you would become?

"The time is always right to do what is right."

Martin Luther King, Jr.

"There is no small act of kindness. 

Every compassionate act makes large the world."

Mary Anne Radmacher

Sophia's Table to be featured in the Dayton Daily News

I have just been informed that Sophia's Table: Women's Wisdom in Five Voices, will be featured in Sharon Short's Literary Life column in the Dayton Daily News on September 8. 

This book is a collaboration among five of us who were part of a contemplative writing group. We are told that collaborating in this way is quite unusual. We each had a task to perform in addition to submitting and critiquing our writing. And we are still on speaking terms. In fact, we have a weekend planned to celebrate Karen's, the initiator of this project, birthday in Berea, KY.

We'll be having a book signing on October 1. More info to come.

Here's the link to purchase it from the publisher.

http://bookstore.authorhouse.com/Products/SKU-000476719/Sophias-Table.aspx

Now You Can Fly

Phyllis gave me a butterfly pin for my birthday, the summer before I started seminary. The card said, "Now you can fly!" She mentored me and nurtured my gifts until I had the courage to break out of my familiar chrysalis and risk becoming a seminary student, something not many woman were doing in 1975.

In my first class, Woman, Man, and the Sexual Revolution, my small group envisioned a future where people would be named once their personalities and gifts were known, sort of like the practice Native Americans use. We chose names for each other and the name I was given was "Emerging Butterfly." After I graduated, my retreat ministry was called "Emergings" and my logo was a butterfly. I love this metaphor for transformation, the process of becoming who we are meant to be. In my experience it is a life-long and never-ending process.

Outgrowing one stage of life often involves a struggle. Letting go of the old so something new can emerge, sometimes something that we don't yet have a clear picture of, is scary. The hard skin of our familiar chrysalis feels safe even as our wings are stretching and calling us forth to fly. Emerging is a struggle. It can feel awful. And it is. It is filled with awe. But we usually don't experience the awe until we've emerged and realize that the emerging has strengthened us. The hard golden skin of a butterfly's pupa is called a chrysalis from the Greek word for gold, chrysos. It has taken me many emergings to appreciate the gold in the struggle. 

After I retired from work that had given my life meaning and purpose for many years, I went through a process of discerning what was next for me. Out of the struggle, I emerged as a writer. I'd written before, received positive feedback for my skills, and even been published in small journals. My favorite was one associated with the University of Dayton, Explorations: Journal for Adventurous Thought. It delighted me to be included in a journal with that name, to be seen as one who thinks adventurously. But I did not identify myself as a writer.

Now, I have collaborated with four other women and we have just published a book called, Sophia's Table: Women's Wisdom in Five Voices. I am in the process of writing my memoir, A Long Awakening to Grace. And I'm starting this blog. While this is all very exciting, it is also scary. Once more I'm stretching my wings and learning to fly. Memoir writing is very different from the academic papers, personal narratives, and newsletter submissions that have characterized my writing life. I am having to learn the craft. That is fun and challenging for one in her early seventies. Will I be able to produce a book that is interesting for readers? As with all memoir writers, I risk ridicule and judgment as I reveal to the world my authentic and flawed humanity. I am fortunate to have a community of support cheering me on..."Now you can fly," just as I have had with each emerging in my life.

Even though I have never met her, I consider Brené Brown and her book, Daring Greatly, to be a part of my support system. She knows that putting my writing out into the world with no assurance that it will be accepted or appreciated makes me vulnerable. I remind myself daily to dare greatly. 

One facet of my protective chrysalis, remaining invisible, has to go for me to emerge fully. I'm an introvert who finds it difficult to get into lively group discussions, so I often remain silent. I prefer to avoid conflict. My heart pounds and I tremble when offering an opinion that may not be welcomed. Having grown up with neglect, I fear being ignored and discounted as though who I am and what I have to say doesn't matter. Becoming visible through this blog and my writing are acts of courage, part of my process of emerging. Today I dare greatly as I click the publish key.

I find people and the stories of their lives fascinating. That's why I love memoir and personal narrative. I hope you will risk sharing here about your process of emerging, learning to fly, embracing all of who you are meant to be. 

Ponderings:
What "Chrysalis Emerging" experiences have you had in your life?
What is "daring greatly" for you?
What "Now you can fly!" path did you follow?
How has following that path impacted your life?

"Find the thing that stirs your heart and make room for it. 

Life is about the development of self to the point of unbridled joy."

Joan Chittister