Bodhisattva Between the Worlds


(c) Cat Charissage, 2016, acrylic on canvas

Bodhisattva Between the Worlds

Here I am.

I arose from this.

I belong here.

Here, now, within and between the worlds

of ordinary and non-ordinary reality,

I am prism

allowing Light to come in, flow through,

become just what is needed in this needful world.

I live . . . . differently, now,

building on what came before, organically,

revisiting pattern, expanding with an aerial view.

No more pushing rivers that flow anyway.

I am flow.  I am vibration.

I live in the spaciousness of All of reality.

With the gift of Light and color

I know radiance, and bring it into darkness.

To see All the Mystery, to share flow,

and roses,

here I am.

HERE I am.


Hello dear friend,

As we move more steadily into fall (where I live), and on this Full Moon energy, I want to invite you to dream and ponder a bit today if you can.

This painting resulted from a lot of dreaming and pondering, especially about the kind of life I want to and need to live, so as to live as expansively and creatively as possible within the realities of this life, here, now.  I was accompanied in this pondering by the most recent class I took with my painting teacher, Shiloh Sophia and her husband Jonathan Lewis, called Prism Leadership Lab.  It sought to apply principles of quantum physics to leadership, by means of painting.

I loved experimenting in a different style than my usual, and hope to do more like this.  Here are some of the “in process photos”.  There were many stages and much writing in each stage.  I had no idea what the finished painting would look like; I just kept painting the next stroke, adding the next idea.


With much love,



Some personal adventures. . .


— WIP, Cat Charissage (c) 2016

Dear Friend,

Happy new moon in this beautiful month of October.  I’m more fatigued than usual right now, but also very happy.  In mid September I was privileged to again attend a training with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her Original Voice series entitled “Getting Unstuck:  Journey through Hell to the Hidden Heart”.  Here’s part of her description of it:

“As I say to you often, as some of my family members used to say with uncanny vision: “Be the first, the last, and the only.” I’d add, this is not a harsh striving; it is a natural condition. Except for being barred from one’s own richness, by various self imposed and external injunctions.

“However, those can be removed and replaced with far better instruction about the nature of the true self, and one creative force, which is the animating force of one’s entire life.  In other words, the overculture causes far too often that people become stuck instead of progressing. Shy instead of shining. Embarrassed instead of energized. Fallow instead of fearless.

“I mean to show the ways to break free, for to remain painfully glued in, unable to move toward the bountiful nature each soul was born in and with, and wanly plucking at the curtains instead, whilst other surge ahead– is a way to feel sick, paltry, unable, and tied in knots.  Such souls so sincerely want to be free to move forward, to try many things, to blossom, to create fully. But often are stymied in the exact how to, the steps needed to break free, to unleash no matter what/who/how/when/where.

“Using the hidden instructions for freeing oneself from the nine circles of capture in Dante’s writing about an underground infierno, translated as ‘hell’, this Original Voice® training teaches how to free oneself for life, teaches the exact steps to be unfettered, to jailbreak the prison. Your part is to practice faithfully. Mine is to impart the field guide.

“This I shall do. I hope you will join us…I’ve remedios for ‘can’t’ and it isn’t merely ‘can.’ It is ‘will.’ Focused vortex of will. You’ll see. We’ll see. Together.”

It’s not everyday that you can go to hell and back with a beloved teacher as guide. . .   It was an adventure, an ordeal, a challenge . . . . and I came back with a virulent cold!  Still, very much worth it.

Since then I’ve been recovering from the cold, and beginning Story Circles.  I’m launching my offerings to do Red Thread Sessions individually online (stay tuned for a more formal announcement), and celebrating birthdays.

My 60th birthday was on September 29.  I alternate between feeling like an elder, a crone, an old lady, a survivor, and entirely too young to be what I used to think of as a “woman of sixty”.    Other birthdays have been my son’s, my sister in law’s, and my mother in law’s.

My son Liberty created an unusual birthday card for me.  It’s a certificate, with writing on both sides.  It’s an invitation to choose how I want to look at myself at this age.  On one side it says ” 60 years.  Dear Mom, you’re getting old, you’ve spent 60 horrible years in this terrible world, you are going to die one day.  Your parents are dead, your father wasn’t nice, you aren’t happy all the time and you argue with your husband.  You have many painful illnesses and your son is angry a lot.  Happy birthday!”

On the other side he wrote “60 years.  Dear Mom, you have lived a long life, you have a nice home, lots of friends, a loving husband that you’ve been with for many years.  You help many people.  You have a kid who makes people laugh at the U. of L.  You have lived through some tough stuff and come out of it better.  You are happy, very happy most of the time.  You’ve got this!  Happy birthday!”

Yes, both are true, and there’s only one I’m going to dwell on.

Thank you for being one of my “lots of friends”.

With much love,


Following the violet light from the wound

Hello dear friend,

At this dark moon night, I’ve finished my painting and my writing to go with it, and wanted to share it with you.  Thank you so for witnessing me.  I feel your kind thoughts, and always appreciate your comments.

Much love,



(c)2016, Cat Charissage.  Acrylic on canvas

Following the violet light from the wound

The topic wasn’t grabbing me.

I’d gathered with other women one afternoon to paint on the topic of “Fearlessness!”

Wasn’t grabbing me.

Then . . . I listened to the niggly thoughts and barely felt awareness

that had spread like miasma through my days:

“Maybe it doesn’t matter, any of it.

Maybe I really don’t have anything of real value to offer or teach.

Besides, why would anyone want to hear it anyway from an achy old woman  who never lived up to her potential to do anything important?”  

(Okay, okay, I know I’m not THAT old.  But it’s only a matter of time, you know . . .)

“Maybe there’s nothing to learn, nothing to offer from a life of low level unrelenting struggle — psychological woundings, vicarious trauma, chronic pain.”

Well, anytime fear comes round, I’ve found that shame isn’t too far behind.  

“After all, things must be  somebody’s fault, right?”  (Wrong, but. . . )

And it’s most convenient and least societally disruptive to blame myself;

“I’m courageous, I can take the truth,” says the martyr within.

In my life self-blame has been so effectively fueled by the underside of

empowerment strategies,

new age healing commandments, and

just enough societal privilege to make me think I’m in control of my life.  

Self-blame fueled by half-truths, quarter-truths, and outright lies.

By this time I didn’t want to paint anything.  

I didn’t want to do anything

except maybe get a Dairy Queen Blizzard

to freeze out this afternoon that wasn’t going anywhere fast.

I picked up the paintbrush anyway. (“Whatever. . . “)

I painted a portal through which something fearless could emerge.  (“Yeah, right.”)

Around the portal I painted my life, my specific conditions of existence.  

I painted my church, my family, suburbia — the quicksand that had almost drowned me.

I painted my searching for wisdom, my openings to a larger world,

my finding love and colleagues broken and complex in a broken and complex world.

I painted my second adult life, dis-ease and disease,

my circles, my art, my Golden Cup.

I painted space for surprises, too.  

Then two women emerged.  

One, me, wondering.

The other. . . I don’t know.

Just there; I’m not alone.

And the wound . . . broken heart broken open giving heart.

The woman wondered,

and listened,

and saw by the light from the wound.

Encouragement — to give heart

Freeing what can be freed

Soothing what can be healed, with truth.



The methodology of making lemonade:

What can be added to the lemons, the always sour lemons,

to bring refreshment,

and joy,

to quench thirst?

Oh, we are so thirsty!

What sweetness is needed?

Beauty, kindness, truth, compassion.

What if?

What if what’s already been done, what is now being done,

is enough, is plenty?

What if THIS changes lives:

beauty, kindness, truth, compassion?

Beauty, kindness, truth, compassion.

What if


is fearless?

Previews of some coming attractions


(c) 2015 Cat Charissage

Dear Friend,

I’m in the process of learning how to extend my reach further than my geographical locale here in Southern Alberta, looking specifically at conducting individual sessions by video call.  While that is in process, I wanted to share SOME of my plans for the coming academic year.

In addition to individual sessions, ,my most transformative offerings have been the Story Circles I’ve facilitated here in my home studio. These are one evening a month, for 10 months September through June.  After much pondering and reflection, I’ve decided to offer 3 different Circles this year, plus a monthly Open Studio for art activities.    I would be honored if you could join me in one or more of them.
The Sheltering Soul Story Circle will be reading selected chapters from Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes’ Women Who Run with the Wolves, the best-selling book of stories of the recovery of the wild woman archetype.  Dr. Estes has been my teacher and mentor for the past 6 summers, and her book has brought depth, spirit, and treasure to those of us who have sat with the stories and commentaries, and then laid down our own lives alongside those archetypal stories of the initiations, challenges, and transitions in a woman’s life.  It’s a map of  how to live a healthy, soulful life, and how to recover health and soul when these have seemed to be lost.
The Untie the Strong Woman Circle will be reading selected chapters from Dr. Estes’ other major work, Untie the Strong Woman:  Blessed Mother’s Immaculate Love for the Wild Soul.  These are more personal stories from Dr. E’s life, stories of the challenges and gifts of responding to the call to love, fully and unconditionally, and the transformations in our and others’ lives when we can heed this call.  Most importantly, it is filled with stories of how this Love is always, always available to us.  We will be discussing how our own lives have challenged us in similar ways, and how we have come to know the archetypes of Holy Mother and Limitless Love through our own life’s journeys.
The third year-long offering is Nighttime Wanderings:  Wonderings about Dreams.  As many of you know, I have been recording my dreams for over thirty years, and studying dreams and their possible meanings and influences in our lives for as many years.  With further training in analyzing dreams, I’m excited to facilitate a group in which we will learn more about these nighttime journeys and have the opportunity to explore our own dreams with the help of the others in the group.  You don’t have to be a regular recorder of your dreams in order to participate; in fact, you can participate even if you don’t yet remember your dreams.  The book we will use as resource is Jeremy Taylor’s Where People Fly and Water Flows Uphill:  Using Dreams to Tap the Wisdom of the Unconscious.
Each of these circles will meet from 7 – 9:30 on one specified Wednesday night per month.  I have not yet decided which group will meet on the first Wednesday, which on the third, and which on the last Wednesday of each month.   The format is that after a brief check in, I offer writing prompts and a few minutes for each of us to write in our journals in response.   The prompts give each of us a chance to take in the stories on a deeper basis and allow us to examine its impact for ourselves.  Then we go around the circle and each participant has a chance to read some or all of what we’ve written, or to otherwise comment on the question.  Sometimes very fascinating discussions take place, and in any case, it’s never been boring!
These groups are offered on a “By Donation” or “Pay what you can” basis — I will have my little “Abundance Box” present at our meetings.  The whole issue of charging for this work is very fraught for me, as it truly turns out that many of the women I am most inspired to work with are not usually bringing in big salaries, and neither do most have lots of discretionary income.  I am deeply committed to making this work available for those who desire and are willing to actually do the work.    Yet at the same time, I, too, need income and/or an energy exchange that recognizes the amount and value of the work I offer.  This is not a hobby for me:  it is my life’s work, and I’ve prepared for this work with all the energy, time, and resources I’ve had.
So my policy is to offer some programs and individual sessions that I do charge for, and I’ll be sending out the brochure of those workshops in early September.  Then other offerings, such as these Story Circles, are by donation.  Please don’t let lack of funds stop you from participating in the groups  —  when you “win the lottery” or get that huge inheritance we’d all like to be waiting for, consider sharing the wealth then!  Yet also don’t minimize the power of a dollar or a few to pay for expenses like tea, photocopies, and the help to keep the bathroom clean and the walks shoveled!  Conversely, if your situation is fairly comfortable,  please consider donating the amount you’d spend on a comparable course or activity.
The first meetings of these groups in September are for all participants to check things out and see if it’s a fit for you.  For those who decide to continue, because of the cumulative positive impact of these Story Circles, I am asking for a commitment to make every good effort to attend all the meetings during the year.  Of course I totally understand that life intrudes, people get sick, and the unexpected does happen, and you may not be able to make each meeting — I’m simply asking that you take this endeavor seriously and make it a priority if it’s a fit for you to be here.
And finally, on the afternoon of the last Saturday of the month, I am offering OPEN STUDIO, a time to join myself and others in different art activities.   All supplies are provided, and I clean up the mess!  I will have the topics for each month listed in my brochure coming in September.  These afternoons are “By Donation”.
If any or all of these Story Circles are calling to you, please let me know of your interest.  Seating is very limited (a maximum of 7).  Check out the books and their reviews on, or feel free to ask me more questions.  To find out more about my background, education and training, please check the “About” page of my (in construction) website,  And please pass this on to any of your friends or colleagues who you think would be interested.
Looking forward to laughter and deep conversation,
With much love,

The Soul’s Lost and Found


The Soul’s Lost and Found
—Cat Charissage, July 2016

“Mommy, I found you!!!
“I lost you!
“I looked there,
and there,
and there — but I couldn’t find you!
“I lost you!”
My son, at two, was just learning to talk.
Those were some of his first sentences.
I never took him back to daycare, and he hasn’t lost me since.

I, too, know what it is to look
and there,
and there,
for someone.
You were lost, and I yearned for you,
for it to be like before.
I thought I might die, looking.
Then I wanted to die, if I could never find you.
Every day grey.
Had I made you up?
If you’d never been, why did I long for you so?

I kept finding places where you’d been,
but now you were gone.
I searched the stories,
the myths,
I searched in other people’s lives.
Even when they said “There! See?”
I couldn’t find you.
Gone, forever? Never been?

Walking the hills, the sun and wind pushing me forward
I dug and dug into the earth, my earth.
Found not just dirt, but soil. And life!
Critters and worms and roots of small plants,
taking my garbage and making compost.

Down there, I found you.
I found me.

Dead? No.
Asleep? Yes, dreaming our new world,
the earth my body, my history turned to gold.
Swirling life, making treasure,
giving treasure all the time I thought you were lost.

Who are you, oh Mystery? And who am I?
Who are we?
Making meaning, making soul.


Hello dear friend,

What is beginning in your beautiful life at this new moon?  For me, as I processed what I had taken in during my training in June with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes, I realized how deeply frustrated I am that I cannot easily speak clearly about that which is most important to me, about that which is the core of my life:  my search for and relationship with Great Mystery.  Sometimes painting and poetry are the only way to approach anything like an accurate communication with others.  

As many of you know, many years ago I had a strong faith as a Roman Catholic.  Suffice it to say that as I learned more, my faith changed deeply, and for many many years I felt both deep loss and anguish with discovering more about so much unmerited suffering of so many in this world and throughout time.  In the past 5 years or so the anguish has lifted; now I know how much I don’t know about “life, the universe, and everything”.  At the same time I commit to living out of as much compassion as I’m able to, and to an ongoing curiosity and study of all the ways that humans have made meaning throughout time.   And so I talk of soul, and mystery, and love, and life, and solidarity, and compassion.

This painting started out without any words or clear ideas.  I loved the idea of a woman of the earth, in the earth, of Gaia, of underground treasure.

20160708_121442 (1)

As I continued to paint I followed an intuition here, a color there.  I adhered crumpled tissue paper to the entire surface (and forgot to take a photo of that step).  For me it illustrated that life rarely goes smoothly.  The Buddhists’ first Noble Truth is that All is Suffering, which actually translates more accurately as “Everything is sort of messed up; life doesn’t fit; it’s all out of sorts.”

Yet I’d just been at a training entitled “The Heart of the Wounded Healer”, and I realize how it is also possible for humans to develop increased compassion and sensitivity, and including other gifts, if there are enough inner and outer resources as well as the deep challenges present.  My physical body is often in pain, and the wrinkled surface of the tissue paper expresses this well.  And somehow, I have accepted this life I have, and somehow, the wounds can also be accepted as potential gold if they are portals to new worlds and understandings.  This is when I added the gold into the woman’s body, and spirals of energy into the sky and sun. I also added my everyday self as the tiny figure, searching for soul.


As the poem began to form, I added spirals of energy into her large body, and formed the hills to look a little more like the coulees here in southern Alberta.  There is much more to say, but that is enough for now.  Here again is the final painting:


Thank you for witnessing and hearing the story,

With much love,


Look at the moon, have a cup of tea, know your own strength and wisdom


Dear Friend,

Before this day is over I wanted to remind you all to look outside tonight and see the beautiful full moon.  What in your life is full to bursting, and is now ready to let go, start to take a rest, start to diminish and move into a more quiescent state?

I wish you could come to my study here and have some tea with me as we sit and talk about some happy d & r’s (deep and real things, that is).  Winter “House’s Choice” is Bengal Spice, summer’s is iced Lemon Zinger or Sweet Orange Spice.  Since this photo was taken I’ve gotten a few more comfortable chairs — if you want, you can sit in the lazyboy chair (just out of sight here).

There are many very serious and frightening things going on in the world these days.  Do not let yourself become disheartened and depleted, especially with too much media watching.  Figure out clearly what is within your reach to help and encourage.  Know where your own circle of influence is, and work within that.  Discern when you need to really understand all the details available, and when reading just the headlines will do.  Don’t wear yourself out on things you cannot immediately do anything about, but DO take care of yourself so that when you CAN do something that is helpful, you are ready, well-nourished, rested and strong enough to do whatever is needed.

Just now, take three deep breaths.  Find your strength within.  Consult your inner wisdom.  Now go forth.

And when it’s time to take a breather, come on over and have some tea with me.  It will be wonderful to talk with you.

With much love,


Resting, Watching, Praying


(c) 2016 Cat Charissage

Dear Friends,

My latest painting is not yet named.  She is full of beauty, peace, and contained power. Below are some of the stages in the journey.  Writing will come later for this painting.

It’s a quiet time for me, resting, pondering the world, pondering my own life, pondering where I can most be of help.

I’ve started an 8-week course, The MBSR On-line Course, the mindfulness-based stress reduction program based on the work of Jon Kabat-Zinn and Saki Santorelli out of the Univ. of Massachusetts Medical School.  I’ve dipped into this program many times over the years, and do already have a long-term meditation practice.  I decided to do the course formally to see how it might help me manage the chronic pain, sleep better, and let go of the constant feeling I have of “having so much to do!”  I’m in week two, and it really takes a dedicated commitment of an hour’s practice every day — an hour that I need to carve out of the every day that already seems too short!  But I think it’s helpful.

How is your summer going?  Are you resting? Vacationing?  Are you happy?  Is your life full of people, activities, and things which bring peace, justice, happiness to your world?  I hope so.

With much love on a day filled with electrified air ready to call forth a fierce thunderstorm,



Praying When God is Silent, Part Three


— w.i.p.  Cat Charissage, (c) 2013

Dear Friends,

Here is Part Three, the end  of my article Praying When God is Silent.  Part One is here.  Part Two is here.

The painting with this post is only half done, just after putting the veil of a glaze over what I had painted.  I thought it fitting for this article, as I do believe that though we see through a veil, there is much behind it, AND there is much more to learn.  I often laugh that forty years ago I knew a whole lot more about the mystery we call God than I do today.  But that’s okay.  Whatever is here, now, is alive and growing into something even more  beautiful, just like the vines in my painting.

Also, an invitation to come to my “What I learned at Wounded Healer with Dr. E” event, here in my home studio, on Thursday June 30.  Email me for more info.

With much love,


Praying When God is Silent, Part Three

Short, small phrases, easy enough to align with our breathing are helpful in calming monkey mind.  One line of a favorite hymn or prayer can be used, or if this is too painful while experiencing God’s silence, you can create your own:  “Open to mystery, open to love,”  “I live with love,” “in darkness, bring light,” “in doubt, faith,” “in despair, hope.”  The rhythm and repetition of these short prayers is calming to our neurological systems.  They are also an ongoing reminder of our intent.

And then there is silence.  When our friends are bereaved, there is often nothing we can say that will help.  Our presence, though, is witness and comfort.  We can sit in silence for 10 or 20 minutes a day, focusing on a word, on a short prayer, or on our breath, and whenever our mind wanders we calmly and gently bring our attention back to the word or breath.  We can listen for the word from within, or we can listen to the silence.  The silence can become a refuge.

When God is silent we are left alone, whether in feeling or in fact.  What should we or can we do now?  We can discover how other people have dealt with this; we can look for metaphors that may help.  We can struggle to examine our own lives and actions; we can face the fears and despair.  We can write all this down in a journal, or we can speak of this with a soul friend.  We can treat ourselves with the kind of love we search for in God, and we can develop other practices for calming ourselves and keeping our loving intent before us.  And there is a kind of silence that can become a refuge.

Sometimes God’s silence in our lives is a temporary rough spot; sometimes it seems to have become our new way of life.  Why is God silent?  There is no answer to that question.  The only helpful questions are “How am I going to live now — with love?  In my depths, with whom will I live — with love?”

Yes, I will live with love.

Praying When God is Silent, part two


— w.i.p.  Cat Charissage (c) 2015

Dear Friends,

Here is the second part of my article Praying When God is Silent.  Part one is here.   Also, if any of you live in Southern Alberta, you are invited to join me in either (or both) of two presentations on what I learned from the Dr. Estes training, The Heart of the Wounded Healer.  They will be held on Saturday, June 25, 1:30 – 4:30, and Thursday, June 30, 7-9:30.  Just send me an email at catcharissage at gmail dot com if you’re interested.

With much love,


Praying When God is Silent, Part Two

However, there have been a few metaphors that I have found to be helpful at these times.  One is that of stormy seas.  The surface of the ocean can be all churning, tempest, and chaos, but only 10 feet down the great depths of the ocean are calm, moving and flowing in ancient ways, holding mystery and life underneath it all.  The circumstances of our lives and the confusions of our psyches may be caught within a powerful and destroying storm of common human experience, but underneath, and not even too far underneath, there may be calm and a life-filled mystery.

Or we might be living as though on the very edges of a wheel for a cart, spinning around faster and faster as the horses, or the motor, speed up.  We will be crushed on the surface of the road; certainly we cannot see where we are going.  But each cartwheel spoke is connected to a hub, just as each of us is connected to our deepest self.  This hub or center of each wheel moves at a much, much slower speed and is protected from the mud and stones of the pavement.  Our hub can be our calm center.  As well, a cart has a driver, a driver who knows where we’re going, and who will bring all the cartwheels safely to their destinations.

Now I want to suggest a few practices that are helpful in times of confusion and pain.  These are things you can do rather than just think or talk about.  Are you taking care of your physical body?  A loving God would want us to be as healthy and as strong as possible.  So many things at times of crisis and pain feel so out of control, but taking good physical care of ourselves and those for whom we are responsible is under our control — at least a little bit.  Can you try to eat as healthfully as possible?  Will you continue to feed your children well?  Can you manage your days in such a way that you get enough sleep?  Can you create peace and calm in your home to nourish both yourself and your family?   Will you engage in gentle — or strenuous — exercise?  These, too, are prayer.

Sometimes when God is silent, our minds are anything but.  Our thoughts tumble over each other like lion cubs in play.   They jump around like monkeys swinging from tree to tree in some jungle of the mind.  Not only are all those thoughts tiring, but sometimes we’re bitten, or feel like we’re hanging by one arm with no tree to swing to next.

Once our thoughts are no longer useful in helping us to understand or strategize about our situation, once our fears have been catalogued in our journals or witnessed by an understanding friend, the spinning repetitive thoughts are no longer helpful.  Catastrophizing, especially, is not useful.  So what can be helpful?  How can we turn this into prayer to calm us and remind us of the immense love we yearn to know?

There’s no place like home! (and Praying When God is Silent, part one)


—detail, painting, acrylic on canvas, Cat Charissage (c) 2015

Hello dear friends,

Happy Solstice and Full Moon!  Yes, I know it was yesterday, but I’m behind on a lot of things these days!  I’ve returned from my training with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estes in her intensive The Heart of the Wounded Healer:  Walking in Two Worlds as a Way of Life.  Travelling is very difficult for me — I was so appreciative of my own bed, and of my comfortable lazyboy chairs dotted around my home.

The training was the first of a five-year series of trainings.  While the five-year series that I completed with her last year, The Mysterium,  was based on Jungian psychoanalytic teachings, this new series, Wounded Healer, is explicitly concerned with helping ourselves and others live a full human life WITH the spirituality included.  Among other things, Dr. E. deconstructed many traditional religious practices, separating them from both superstition and exclusive relation to a particular religious tradition.  We then learned the value of these kinds of practices in the full expression of both our humanness and our relationship with Mystery.

It was so worth going; it leaves me with a bit of a personal challenge, though.  Dr. Estes is fully comfortable with using words such as “Creator” or “Source without source” (which I quite like).  I, however, am still finding my language when it comes to that Mystery many of us call “God”.   Absolutely everything I am about is concerned with this Mystery and our relationship to/with that Mystery, yet I am not comfortable using traditional religious language because that language has been historically used not only to help and educate, but also to control, oppress, and obfuscate.  While Dr. E. is interested in recovering the treasure in that language, I am not comfortable using religious language unless I define almost every word to be clear that I’m not advancing the controlling and oppressive subtext that I believe has tainted most of it.  And that, of course, does not lead to smooth narrative!

I hope, with time, openness, and much reflection, to either discover or create that language.  Stay tuned!

In reference to my last post,  New Moon Wonderings: Have you never doubted?, I want to share with you an article I wrote several years ago in response to a friend who was deeply distressed when she no longer felt any answers to her prayer.  Since it is rather long, I will publish it in three sections over the next week or so.  Please contact me with any of your thoughts and ideas.

With much love,


Praying When God is Silent, Part One

I have heard from some of you about one of the most poignant and difficult of life’s experiences:  when God does not answer prayer, when God is silent.  At first, people bring this up to me in roundabout ways, because you know that I’m not a church goer, that I do not profess any creed.  Yet you also know that I used to be a devout Catholic Christian, so much so that as a young adult I spent 3 years in the convent, formally studied theology for 7 years, and have bookshelves groaning with the scriptures and wisdom literature of the world.  I seem a mismatch with my evangelical Christian and LDS friends, so when you tell me of God’s silence I know that you are suffering deeply and that your questions are not some idle intellectual exercise.  I do bear witness to your pain.  I, too, know God’s silence.

There are many ways that people have responded to this situation, but some of these responses have not been helpful to me, nor, I doubt, for you:  “This is God’s testing of your faithfulness.”  “God does not abandon us, so if you don’t feel his presence, then who moved?”  “Are you harboring some hidden sin that needs to be repented of?”  These responses seem to only blame me for my suffering.  Yes, we must examine if and how we might be contributing to our own pain, but once we know we’re truly doing our best, what do we do now?

Some other responses to those who don’t feel God’s presence are kinder:  “God is molding you in the dark; you may not see his hands on the potter’s wheel or his intentions, but don’t be concerned, for he is here.”  “God is our father, and just as parents cannot always fulfill their children’s desires but still love and guide their children, so God is doing so for us.”  “Sometimes God is silent, but he is there, just as the stars, though not visible during the daylight, are still shining in the heavens.”

Many are comforted by some of these responses.  Others are only left confused.  I have known only God’s silence for many many years.  One of the responses to God’s silence that is never voiced in Church circles is an obvious one, to me anyway:  “Well, maybe this is evidence that there really is no God at all.  Maybe the atheists are right, and my previous religious experiences were only the result of indoctrination, wishful thinking, or psychological projection.”  While rarely voiced, I know that many people are secretly tortured by this thought.

You may think I’ve wandered from my stated topic of praying while God is silent.  I want to encourage you, though, to go ahead and face all the discouraging and frightening thoughts that niggle in the dark corners of your mind.  God — if there is a God at all — is love.  That immense love that we call God is certainly big enough and strong enough to take any questions our minds can dream up; immense love can understand our frustration, our fear, and our anger.  And even if our worst fears turn out to be true and there is no God in the ways that we have been told, if God is only an imaginary friend, this exploration of our deepest questions is of value, for there is not time wasted when one asks sincere questions and seeks to find true answers.  This is prayer.

(Part Two will be published later this week.  Thank you for reading.)