a little about me

Occasionally I blog for the Devo'Zine youth worker blog "In the Habit," and they invited me to write a bio for an upcoming blog post I wrote for youth workers to explore photography and other creative faith expressions with their youngin's. So I decided to use photography in my bio and thought it might be fun to share here and reintroduce myself to all of you.

So let the fun begin, eh?!?!

My name is

Made in the image of our Creator, all of us were born to

So that’s what I live to do each day of my life. I

for a living, and writing is my heartsong. And I work at

(pronounced lulu + lemon like the fruit, by the way).

Both of my jobs push me and inspire me in more ways than I could have ever imagined.

I love dancing, reading, cupcaking and practicing

I’m a firm believer that we should

& so I do. Occasionally I bring out my camera and take photographs or find myself with a canvas and a paintbrush just to try something new.

May you all tap into the

and the

that God has planted deep within each of our hearts, and shine! That is the joy of life, and life is meant to be lived joyfully.

namaste.

Crazy Things . . .

Several people have commented to me (in person) about my poem Do the Crazy Thing that I posted here a couple of months ago. It has a special story to it, so I thought I'd share it here.

In May I took a visual poetry class at Art & Soul taught by the wonderful Kelly Falzone. It's a class where poetry interacts with visual art; we made art to fit our words, we crafted words to complement our art, we shaped our poetry, we were inspired by images and paintings and one another. It was a lovely course.

In one particular class, Kelly pulled out an old box filled with black & white postcards. She turned them over so that we could not see the images and fanned them in her hands, asking us to select two postcards like she was a magician starting a card trick. We were told not to look at the cards but to simply think of someone who was no longer in our lives--either because his or her breath had expired or because life situations had taken us away from each other (break-ups, moves, graduations, etc.). Kelly told us that this person we were thinking of had a message for us and they wanted to send on a postcard. Once we turned the cards over, she said, we would know which card this person would send and what the message was. Our exercise was to write down the message.

So I selected two cards, as instructed. I immediately thought of my dear Teri who died unexpectedly in 2003. The heft of her death sits near me still. I flipped the cards over and saw two images: one was a man standing on a bridge in Chicago with a tall well-windowed building behind him, the other was of a man with one knee on the ground who was balancing a sword on his nose. Just as Kelly promised, I knew Teri would send the sword-balancing card, and so I started writing.

"Do the Crazy Thing" is Teri's beautiful message to me, and it came at just the most amazing time. Just days before I had mentioned to my besties Beth (my Bethstie!) and my sister that I was going to just go ahead and leave my job, start writing again and trust that all would work out as it was to be. I had done that before in 2005, and I was ready to do it again, I told them. They both thought that maybe I wasn't making the most rational of decisions.

But this exercise reminded me that sometimes the most rational of decisions keeps us from doing things of wonder. And this exercise reminded me that Teri inspired me so much in her living because she did wonder-filled things! And this exercise gave me a gift I've missed for almost 8 long years: sitting down and telling Teri my secrets and hearing her crazy-wonderful advice!

I highly recommend an exercise like this if you have someone who's missing from your life. It's magical.

UPDATE--and just so you know, I did leave my job just two or three weeks after writing this poem and, in fact, started writing for a living again! I also work at the lululemon store in Nashville and love my work every day. So when the fabulous Alessia at the lululemon headquarters put some graphics to this poem in October, I was terribly honored . . . so voila!

New web site

"A poet's autobiography is his poetry. Anything else is just a footnote." - Yevgeny Yevtushenko



I have a new web site coming, and I'm excited about it!

I’m launching a new site all about poets in June: JustAFootnote.com. It’s a place where I will talk about writerly things—the writing process, exercises that interest and challenge me as a poet and, most importantly, the stories of other poets whose narrations of life inspire me. Inspired by Yevtushenko’s quotation, I fully realize that snippets of a poet’s life are simply footnotes of a greater story that his or her poetry tells. Still, I hope we will all connect more deeply with poetry because of the inspiring lives of poets I know and share with readers of Just a Footnote.

Each week I’ll spend time with a different poet, and on Mondays I will feature a new poet on the site. Readers will get snippets of our conversations, photographs of the poet in his or her element, and a brief introduction to their work. I’ve got some amazing Nashville poets lined up and some fun contests, so make sure you check it out and come back often!

I’ll keep you posted when we launch.

In the meantime, love well . . .

Like my facebook page or follow me on Twitter for further updates!

love well . . .

I have one intention for my life right now: that I might love well.

And this intention is larger than I could imagine, but I'm excited about what it will mean. I will love the people I love well. I will love people who make my head pound and force my eyes to roll well. I will love my writing well. I will love the earth well. I will love my body well. I will love God and God's people well. And I will be open to whatever ways God may call me to love well . . .

As you can see, this is quite a life intention. I will need enormous amounts of accountability. I am grateful to be surrounded by beautiful, honest people who love me even when I don't love well (and I have been a poor lover more often than not). Thank you, my loves! Please keep inspiring me and holding me accountable.

My lastest joys for practicing some good loving:

Water. Water is life. And I'm drinking a lot more of life these days, and life is yummy. I'm not a fan of NYResolutions, but I guess this is the closest to one that I've made. So I upped the water ante a couple of weeks ago, and I can tell a difference already.

Yoga Journal. Such a good magazine with health tips, life tips and a greater understanding of the practice. I'm trying the 21-day challenge to commit to a home practice. Delightful.

Namaste. It's a Sanskrit word that basically means that the divine that dwells within me recognizes and honors the divine that dwells within you. We say this at the end of yoga practices, but I have better days when I think of namaste throughout my day. And I consider it a most loving of greetings. Would that we all might see and greet our Creator in our neighbors before anything else.

Miss Ruby. Our friend Miss Ruby is the most loving person I know. Her latest favorite song is "Say Hey" by Michael Franti & Spearhead. I'm pretty sure this is because every 30 seconds or so you get to repeat, "I love you," several times (and it's a good rhythm, and Miss Ruby loves good rhythms so that we can dance). She consoles people who seem sad. She laughs loudly. She watches the news and calls on "Jesus" when she hears of shootings and hardships. She says "I love you" as often as she can to as many people as she can, and I love that about her. She loves well.

CrazySexyLife. I stumbled across this site from a Facebook ad (I know . . . FB is so good at what it does). And this Kris Carr seems infectious. Great blog name, for starters. And let's not ignore her website's tagline: "a super disco of health, spiritual wealth and happiness!" Yes. And with increasing weight and blood pressure, I just got orders from the doctor to change some parts of my lifestyle. While I avoid diets (because the word "die" is in it for a reason), I think I like Carr's approach to lifestyle change. I just might be buying the book and love my body well.

Common Prayer. Liturgy at its finest. Written by three people I call friends. I'm struggling with church and all of its complexities these days. But I'm always a lover of liturgy. And this book helps me to love Christ well. Thanks, my sister, for gifting it to me. [There's a good web site, too, for daily practice: Common Prayer]

Writing. My first true love. And instead of critiquing it, I'm practicing silencing the editor and loving it back. And this is actually harder than I could imagine. But it hurts so good.

In his Ode Magazine article "Standing Barefoot Before God," Rabbi Rami writes, "write what you know and keep at it until you at last realize you don't know much and what you do know is terrifyingly trite and stupefyingly boring." And he basically encourages writers to let writing strip us bare. Yes. Stripped and naked and vulnerable--these are the places where God's light shines, where honesty can't help but dance, where words we are too afraid to say reveal themselves in crazy/beautiful madness.

That's all for today.

love well.

C

Busboys & Poets

Busboys & Poets . . . This might now be on my list of favorite places on earth.

A hip, urban spot with high warehouse ceilings. Blue, bright green, brown and tan walls filled with art and happiness. Cozy couches, dining tables, a section in the back with tables, booths, a stage--for spoken word and open mic--and quotes on the wall all about peace. Coffee, chatter, wine. India.Arie singing "Beautiful" and Lauryn Hill belting out "Zion" through the speakers. Candles, lanterns, lamps that double as art. People--every shade and age and size. Organic dishes, fairly traded brews. Large images of Gandhi, King, Mother T. Poems of Langston Hughes and quotes by Eisenhower and the Dalai Lama sprinkled throughout the menu. A delicious, smooth chai latté. This place is funky-strong and laid-back chill. And in case it couldn't get any cooler, there's a non-profit bookstore inside with children's books, poetry books and tons of books about peace and a fair trade store with artisan crafts from impoverished countries worldwide.

One roof. Seriously.

I'm here at Busboys & Poets for the second Split This Rock Poetry Festival. It's a gathering to celebrate the poet voice in activism. We're a group of poets who have come together to share with each other and dream together ways that our words can and will make this world a bit better. A lot better. In fact, we gather because we have the audacity to believe that poetry can inspire in the hearts of the world a need to live into the more beautiful ways we were created.

I accidentally read the wrong page of When You Pray in this morning's devotional, but after reading this quotation, I think it might have just been the word God wanted me to hear today:

The true prophetic message always calls us to a spiritual defiance of the world as it now is. Our prayer, to the extent that it is fully authentic, undermines the status quo. It is a spiritual underground resistance movement. We are subversive in a world of injustice, oppression and violence. Like Amos of old, we demand that "justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an everflowing stream" (Amos 5:24). We plead the case of the orphan and the widow, or whoever the helpless ones are in our context. In our prayers and in our actions we stand firm against racism, sexism, nationalism, ageism, and every other "ism" that separates and splits and divides. -Richard J. Foster

Fitting. Please pray that my poetic words might help justice roll down . . .

And may we all live into another way that is very much possible.

Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa

Well, someone reminded me this week that I have blogged a little about the book with great anticipation for its release, but I haven't said anything on here after it actually released. I have linked to the book on Facebook but nothing here.

So Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa released Sept. 1, published by Upper Room Books. It was the featured book on their homepage for a couple of weeks. It's been picked up on Amazon where Jay Voorhees wrote a very beautiful review (along with a disclaimer for knowing me), and this is very exciting. It looks like Abingdon will pick up the book soon, as well, which means we'll get to be in their distribution at larger bookstores. We're going to possibly work on some book signings at Barnes & Noble in 2010. I'll keep you posted as this develops (I promise).

It's humbling to see this all come together--not just the book but also everything with Pray With Africa. Our film is complete and packaged, and our Tribes are on the road sharing it with the world. Our web site is up (with a few kinks still), and the prayer community is starting to get some prayer requests from the U.S. and Africa (and hopefully from people all over the world soon). People are starting to hear our Learn. Pray. Act. philosophy and are getting excited about living it out in all aspects of their lives and not just our approach to humanitarian aid.

So much of what Cary, Austin and I have been dreaming and shaping for the past year is now out into the world. I've given this huge piece of my heart and the hearts of my friends in Africa through writing Like Breath and Water. We've all done the same with the other pieces of Pray With Africa, as well. I hope that it speaks to people and that God is able to use it to bring us all closer to the Kingdom.

I'm so grateful for family and friends who continue to lift us in prayer and support Pray With Africa all the way . . .

So that's where we are now!

Mary Oliver. Delight.

As I washed my hands in my yoga instructor's bathroom Monday, I read a poem she had mounted next to the mirror on the wall. It's called "The Summer Day" by Mary Oliver. I've read it before, and it was nice to be reminded of the beauty of her simple poetic style and to appreciate the questions this poem asks.

Stepping out of the bathroom, I said to my happy yogi, "First of all, I love everything about your house" (I do. Every inch of her house is like stepping into a creative haven. Everything about it represents her and her hubby so well. From the old naked books on the shelves [I love dust jacket-free books!] to the flowers in the cozy kitchen nook to the watercolor haiku hanging on the other side of the mirror in her bathroom]. A fabulous house helps tell your story.) "Secondly, I love that you have a Mary Oliver poem hanging in your bathroom."

Well, I'm grateful I added my "secondly" because I received an email from my yogi yesterday saying that Mary Oliver was reading her work tonight at Belmont University and that I should check it out if I was free.

Delight.

It seemed nearly indulgent to hear Ms. Oliver read and speak these words I've read before and know that this is the intended voice for every word. And I smiled, rejoicing that this is her heart's delight, and she gets to delight her heart for a living. All of the time. Shape words into tiny snapshots of life and travel the world sharing her amazing gallery.

I would envy Mary O if envy were in my bones.

It was a lovely evening.

I'll close with one my favorites that she read tonight (oh, there were so many!):

Mysteries, Yes

Truly, we live with mysteries too marvelous
to be understood.

How grass can be nourishing in the
mouths of the lambs.
How rivers and stones are forever
in allegiance with gravity
while we ourselves dream of rising.
How two hands touch and the bonds
will never be broken.
How people come, from delight or the
scars of damage,
to the comfort of a poem.

Let me keep my distance, always, from those
who think they have the answers.

Let me keep company always with those who say
"Look!" and laugh in astonishment,
and bow their heads.

Thirty and Thriving! ;)

I turned 30 yesterday, and it feels good! My friend Beth asked me last night (after my roller skating party, which was uber funtabulous!) what goals I have for the new year. I have several: organizing my room (which is not my forté, as you've read in previous entries), really nailing down a good eating plan (which I think will be easier once we move into the new house, and I can start gardening; more on the new house later) and working on poetry collections more. Specifically, I want to submit more poems to magazines and maybe submit a manuscript, too. This past year has been a slow poetry year for me with co-creating Pray With Africa and writing the book, so I'm itching to focus more on the poetry aspect of my craft this year.



But the biggest goal of the year will be promoting Like Breath and Water: Praying With Africa. It's gone to the presses, and we should get a proof back soon. I'm very excited about it and can't wait to share the stories with everyone. I hope they will be well received and will honor the lives of the people who so graciously shared their stories with me. And I want to really get the book out there. I mean, we're talking Oprah, friends! :) Any ideas you have for promoting it, please send them my way . . . it's all so new to me.

We received two endorsements that will be printed on the book. I'll leave you today with those:

"Like Breath and Water is an inspiring look at the reality of the African
continent, in both its beauty and tragedy.
This story is not only a challenge of our conceptions and apathy; but even
more so, it is a testament to the unbounded power of prayer."

-Jason Russell, Co-founder Invisible Children

"This book dances. It lets us taste the salt in the tears of Africa,
and lets us hear the children giggle. But it goes even deeper.
Like Breath and Water invites us to see these faces across the globe as our
own family. The reality of that should fill us with hope, for we have
much to learn from them. And it should keep us up at night, for we
are still a very dysfunctional Family."

-Shane Claiborne, author, activist, recovering sinner
www.thesimpleway.org


Thanks to my friends for loving me through this book process! I appreciate you so much! And hugs to everyone who has blessed my life with their presence, their encouragement, their beauty and their love to me since 1979! 30 is a good year . . .

Pray With Africa Book Update . . .

Well, I've finished writing the book! It seems that even after I finished the last word on the Pray With Africa book, there's still so much work to be done. This part has been new and very exciting, though. We decided to change the title, and I'm very excited about the new title. Cary and I both thought of it as a title separately, and so I felt like it was a real confirmation when he told me his title idea, and it was the same as mine. The new title of the book is Like Breath and Water: Praying with Africa. In Africa, I realized that prayer is a life force for the people I met in Africa. They value it and depend on it as much as they value and need every precious breath and every drop of clean water. I think the title captures the essence of what I learned about prayer in Africa.

David Uttley is working on designing the cover and the inside of the book--including the photographs. I look forward to seeing what he does with our photographs; he's so talented.

We sent the book to several people today, hoping to get their endorsements and opinions. I hope that they will give us valuable feedback and reviews. Is it too outrageous to think that maybe Bono would really dig this book? We'll see . . .

It's all very special, and I look forward to publication. I'll continue updating as more develops.

In the meantime, here's our latest Pray With Africa media. It will tell you a bit more about our vision.

Also, you can visit our web site (the temporary one, that is; the new one will be amazing but not until September) and help us recruit people for the fall road tour.

peace.

Pray With Africa

My friend Will says, "My life is stupid!" when he thinks about how amazing and unbelievable some parts of his life seem. In Will's definition of "stupid," then, I must thank God for just how stupid my life is becoming.

In five weeks I'm going to Africa! I'll be there for six weeks, visiting six countries. I'm traveling the continent with my friends Cary and Austin, carrying our clothes, our camera and our pens and paper. We're collecting prayers of the people in each of the countries we're visiting and then bringing these prayers back to the United States, encouraging the world to stop praying for the people of Africa and, instead, join the the prayers they are already praying.

six beautiful countries
meeting hundreds of beautiful people
listening to hundreds of amazing prayers
for six amazing weeks

Yes, my life is stupid!

Here's our Pray With Africa video (featuring music by none other than k.s. Rhoads):

Pray With Africa


As I prepare for this journey--this pilgrimage of sorts--I invite you to pray with me.

Upper Room Podcast

I am a featured author on one of Upper Room's Continuum podcasts. Check it out here.

Arts in the Village, April 22!

Our youth at church have been creating fantabulous art--writing, photography, music, knitting, etc.--to display/sell at our first Arts in the Village festival! The money we raise from this first festival will go towards mission efforts for Hurricane Katrina relief.

This morning I walked the streets of Nashville with our Jr. High youth, asking vendors to place our flyers in their store windows, on their community boards, etc. It's a beautiful day, and the youth are LOVELY! I'm looking forward to our April 22 celebration! If you're in Nashville, join us!

Withering Calla

I love receiving flowers, and I detest when they wither.

My calla lily withered. It lost the freshness that made it beautiful, the vitality that made me smile and think that it just might live longer than its supposed lifespan.

As I detest the death of this gorgeous, lovely gift that is no more, I stop myself from thinking of what plant food I could've given it or how changing the water might have given it another day in the vase. I've done that with roses and carnations before.

This time it's a calla lily--a flower I've never received from anyone before, one of my favorites. I treat it tenderly. See I enjoyed every minute of how it made my room feel when it was alive. And I'm glad that I'm letting it go before it gets too old and stains the vase with mildew and yuckiness (also a thing I've done with roses and carnations). It's lived, and it's not living anymore. And that's life.

I love being given this calla lily, and I destest that it's withered.

And so it is . . .


Calla #3 by Allan Baillie

My Fall

tears release
baring the secrets
of branches
once Sturdy
now chipped,

bowing to wind,
breaking.
My rings and roots
shiver
bracing for weighty
ice

hoping against Hope
for a blossom
before
I am bent
and broken.

Zadie Smith on writing . . .

"The best, the only real (writing) training you can get is from reading other people's books. I spent three years in college and wrote three and a half stories but I read everything I could get my hands on. White Teeth is really the product of that time; it's like the regurgitation of the kind of beautiful, antiquated, left-side-of-the-brain liberal arts education which is dying a death even as I write this. Generally, an English Lit degree trains you to be a useless member of the modern world and that's what I'm being in the only way I know how." ~British author Zadie Smith (whose latest novel On Beauty is a New York Times Bestseller) in an interview for Bold Type online 'zine

I am Woe no more . . .

Amazing grace! How sweet the sound of Mark (the Acklen P.O. worker whom I annoyed once again with a phone call about my journal) when he said, "This is your lucky day! Somehow it's here now."

Hallelujah!

My journal has come safely home! My memories are not lost. Although, in this process of loss I learned that I carry a lot more with me than I thought I did.

Yippee!

Woe is I

There were some days I left my camera in the room where I stayed in South Africa this past June. We visited some lovely places on those days, too, but I did not take my camera with me. I opted instead to see the world through my two lenses and not rely on a 4 x 6 to capture a memory.

I did take my journal with me, though. While it may not hold elaborate, publishable thoughts, I did use it on those days to record verbal snapshots of what I was seeing and experiencing. It holds names of people I met, names of places I visited and imagery of the ocean slamming against the rocks in Knysna. It houses frustrations with our hosts, recollections of being sick, and broken-hearted thoughts about South Africa's history. It tells of sad days when I missed Lanecia, joyful moments after a late-night phone call from Jay and special minutes of hearing someone share their story with me.

Even with camera in tow, I relied on placing memories in my journal, as well.

So this is my lament.

I took the journal inside the Post Office today. This journal also contains addresses for some people dear to my life, and I had it with me as a reference for mailing a package. I am the queen of absentmindedness at times, and I managed to walk away from the P.O. without my journal.

When I returned to the Acklen P.O. about 30 minutes later, they had no books in the lost & found.

So my purple book of thoughts, poetry and memories is no longer with me anymore.

Reversible/Redeemable

I wanted to blog yesterday about being able to rewind life and clear the the pains inflicted upon us we cannot bear, words we say and didn't mean, the actions we did and wished we didn't, the disasters that interrupt our lives . . .

But I couldn't put all the words together yesterday, so I chose instead to post a poem by Carole Satyamurti referring to nail polish and the comfort involved in painting your nails.

There is something wonderful about being able to stain your fingers in a color as bright as blood and being able to wipe them clean again with a little bit of remover. The stains of nail polish are reversible, unlike many of the stains of our lives.

Life is not reversible. Hurricane victims will always have lost everything. Those in Rwanda during their genocide will always have that as a part of their human experience. The hurtful words I've said have left my mouth for good. People have been stained.

Life is redeemable. Displaced people will find homes. Distraught countries will find peace. Wrongdoings will be forgiven. We don't know how or when, but every moment of life is redeemable. With love as bright as the blood of Christ, we are covered and made beautiful. We are stained, but the stains are redeemable. We can be stained beautiful like glass.

*Stained glass image by Sergiy Shkanov.

On Writing

"being true to yourself really means being true to all the complexities of the human spirit. And as much as we'd like to give -- and we want to be perfect, well-rounded individuals -- all of us have our quirks. We all know we've had our foibles. And we've got these embarrassing moments in our lives, and things that we're ultimately ashamed of. What writing -- what I think all the arts do -- is to reveal. Let us see again and experience again, all the ambiguities that make up -- and the contradictions that make up -- a human being: the good and the bad and how they can exist in one person and make a complex individual. And to do that, that means being very honest. Being honest all the time." ~Rita Dove, online interview

Source: http://www.english.uiuc.edu/maps/poets/a_f/dove/onlineinterviews.htm

Any ideas?

I started the day later than usual (although in the past two weeks "later" has been usual), but I was motivated to get out of the bed and walk/jog and do crunches when my dear friend J.O. sent a fitness article via e-mail. Then I met Kara and Becky at the Frothy Monkey! I love my covenant group meetings each week anyway, but meeting at the Frothy Monkey this week made it even more enticing. So we discussed life and all of its greatness over delicious sandwiches (I had the Ned--tofu, hummus, tomato, romaine lettuce, red peppers, wonderful!). And of course, I drank my "marriage water" (a.k.a. Fiji).

We didn't really discuss the covenant this week, which is probably good since I failed miserably at several spiritual disciplines over the past seven days. I still enjoyed being with them. And we discussed financial disparity, among other things. You have celebrities moving into the beautiful brownstones of Harlem. We applaud this because it marks a revitalization of the somewhat financially depressed area. But as the property value increases as the wealthy stake their claim, what happens to the residents in the area now who can barely afford their present living space? Is this really revitalization, or is it gentrification that will force those who call Harlem home to find a new home? Then you have Washington, DC . . . our nation's capital city! Walk one block from the pristine capitol building where the leaders of our nation and all of their riches work to maintain the welfare of the United States and we will be greeted by some of our nation's poorest. We will maybe nod at them, toss a dime or a dollar and then catch the Metro at Union Station. Well, it's here in Nashville, too. It's a reality of our lives. Kara said it best with a sigh, "There's just so much to do."

Anyway, I meet with a group of writers each Sunday we're all in town (usually every other Sunday), so yesterday we met over pancakes and French toast at the Pancake Pantry (yes, food makes every meeting even more worthwhile). We decided we all have to submit some of our work to at least one publication within the next month. Tom and I primarily write poetry; Kami writes creative nonfiction/essays primarily. It should be fun. So on top of other deadlines and work, I hope to get some poems together that I'm ready to submit. Yikes! Should I use what I have already? Should I write something new? I'm leaning toward something new . . . maybe a series of three poems relating to a single topic. But what topic? Any ideas? Throw me a word, a phrase or a concept, and I'll see what inspires me. Toss a topic my way, if you'll please! Thanks, friends!