Rule 31 Listed Mediator

I am proud to announce that the Tennessee Supreme Court's Alternative Dispute Resolution Commission has reviewed my qualifications and training and has approved me as a listed mediator. I invested in the training and experience because I believe we need to learn an alternative way to reach agreements. People need to learn a model for talking to each other, face-to-face, even when and especially when there is a disagreement on the table.

I live in Memphis where people are shot, stabbed and attacked every day in various ways that destroy life. We do not know how to communicate our feelings and needs so we have given up on decent human exchanges. Our school systems educate us for years without ever mentioning to us that it will be necessary for us to recognize and connect with our own needs and feelings in order to succeed in the mature world. Because we have lost touch with ourselves we have lost compassion for others. In our current alienated state of existence we ride around from home to work in fast-paced moving metal boxes, guarding ourselves from anything resembling face-to-face human connections.

Memphis has a church or a place of worship on almost every corner. Rather than model how to reach out and connect with those who have a different perspective on things, the Church models for all of us the way to isolate, blame, humiliate and condemn those who ask questions or think differently. I don't think that's what Jesus had in mind when he called us to "Abide in my love." How will we ever obey his command to "love your enemies," when we can hardly tolerate being in the same room with people from a denomination other than our own? There is a better way to live together and I trust that the Church can learn something new.

While churches host one more pointless debate about whether or not a pregnant woman has the right to abort an unwanted pregnancy, hundreds of unsupervised and poorly parented children are joining gangs and carrying guns to school. They want to belong; they long to feel powerful in the eyes of someone. They wish somebody powerful would reach out and give them some protection and boundaries that will help them feel safe in a world gone crazy. The institutional Church has hardened its heart, closed its pocket-book and turned its back. Maybe the new president will do what needs to be done.

While churches meet and host costly gatherings around the world where well dressed clergy continue a debate on whether or not to ordain women, gay and lesbian people, most of the world is starving for a loaf of bread and a sip of clean water. Our leaders would do well to simply back up and look closely at Maslow's hierarchy of needs as a place to begin in the Church's reorganization of priorities.

The Church has lost its way as all of us have lost our way since we stopped respectfully passing the talking stick and listening to the voice of the other. We have forgotten how to treat one another with respect. We have kicked the Golden Rule to the side of the road and we think the story of the Good Samaritan is a fairy tale intended for people who live in a galaxy far, far away.

Emergent church leader Brian McLaren wonders when it was that the U.S. was a Christian nation. Was it when Americans wantonly killed native peoples, taking their lands and breaking promises to them? Was it during the era of slavery or segregation, which were justified on biblical grounds? Was it when the U.S. dropped the first nuclear bombs on civilian populations? Or was it when the nation plundered the environment and turned a blind eye to torture? "Was it earlier this week when I turned on the tv or radio and heard people scapegoating immigrants and gay people and Muslims?" (Washington Post "On Faith " blog, April 16/ The Christian Century, "Century Marks," May 19, 2009, p. 8)

I am no longer young but I can still learn new things. The Church also can be taught to reconsider and to adopt a new set of priorities. We can begin a new thing and enter into a more excellent way by sitting down at a table together, sharing a meal and then allowing our conversation to be mediated by a skilled person who longs to give love a chance in our face-to-face offerings.

Conflict is not bad; it is a signal that something needs to change. Mediation provides the opportunity for self determination. The mediated conversation is not about the past; it is not about being right or wrong. Mediation provides the opportunity for parties to see their own full humanity and to have the full humanity of the other respectfully reflected back across the table.

On the last night that Jesus lived among us as one of us, he sat down at a table and he broke bread. He blessed it and he gave it to his disciples, knowing that one of them had already taken action that would condemn Jesus to an unjustified public execution. "Do this every time you get together," he directed, "and remember me." We can put his broken body back together by speaking and listening respectfully at the same table. It's one loaf of bread and we all share it. We have seen the model and worshipped it. Now it is time to trust in the model we've been given.

A group calling themselves Memphis City Churches has adopted the strategy of distorting the definition of sexual orientation to malign attempts to pass a Shelby County Non-Discrimination Ordinance. People have organized themselves in the name of the Church to prevent other human beings from being protected by civil rights laws. We can do better than this.

Our differences are not justification for our alienation from one another. I would be honored to mediate the conversation and help us to move into the Kingdom of God on this earth. I will be doing what I can to offer my help. My life has been centered around the Church. It's really all I know. And I know it can be transformed and healed by a series of loving conversations with good food in front of us. I hope I get the chance to prove I am right about that.

Call me. I am ready to go to work.

Sacred Circles at the National Cathedral

I just returned home from the Sacred Circles Conference at the National Cathedral in Washington DC. Please take a minute to check out www.sacred-circles.ning.com I was there with 1300 people who want to do more to make our way of life a compassionate way of life. We were Christian, Muslim, Secular Humanist, Hindu, Jew, Agnostic, Atheist, Buddhist and Pagan. Sacred Circles is a gathering for people who value and nurture their spiritual journey. My soul was fed by the speakers, by the workshops and by the friendships I made. I was inspired.
I love to learn. I am curious about the world around me and how I might plug into healthy processes of hope. Sacred Circles is an annual event, celebrating circles that welcome all people. It is a time to get together, acknowledge the gifts we bring and connect in peace and in joy. We shared truth from different traditions and learned new ways to give the gifts of tolerance, respect, and hope to the world around us. Sacred Circles is a place to be educated about pain and suffering in our world. It is also an opportunity to connect with people who plan ways to heal the hurts of the world.
It is not too late for you to get connected. Check out Karen Armstrong’s new initiative, www.charterforcompassion.org Together, we can do so much good for ourselves, for our neighbors and for the future of this universe. Now is the time to act with compassion.

Soul

When I was a freshman in college and sitting in Biology 101, the instructor caught my wandering attention with a lecture about DNA. My heart began to pound with a notion that jumped into my head and popped out of my mouth before I considered how those words might sound. "Hey! Is that where our soul is? In the DNA?"

Dr. Lord stopped talking and looked up at the ceiling, studying water stains. "Soul," she scratched her chin, "to me, is a type of music."

I am still curious about the soul and where it might be located. My soul in particular. Souls are old, ancient in my imagination. When souls were invented there were no metal boxes on wheels that zoomed over paved highways at seventy-five miles per hour. Friends had to talk face to face; there was no cyber-space when souls came into being. Our souls are eternal. I'm curious about what my soul has to say to me, where my soul has been and what it has seen.

I have just happened upon two books that have made the time between birth and death seem so much more interesting. Michael A. Singer wrote The Untethered Soul: the journey beyond yourself. Attending to what I learned from this book has allowed me a new level of personal freedom. I came into this world with a limited number of days to do what I am able to do with the body I've been given to live in. My soul has been part of the journey. Before my lungs sucked in air, my soul was there. My soul is ever present and never changing. It observes and waits respectfully to be consulted, befriended.

The other book that has touched my soul is written by Caroline Myss, Entering the Castle: An Inner Path to God and Your Soul. Myss takes her reader by the hand and walks the reader through the rooms of the soul. This soul work adds a new dimension to life.

The best I can do is to encourage my friends to read both of these books. Your soul will thank you for it.

Nonviolent Communication

I had the great pleasure and privilege of attending a nine day international training event with Marshall Rosenberg. He is the founder of the Nonviolent Communication movement. Check out the web-site www.cnvc.org Nonviolent Communication is a compassionate way of expressing ourselves and listening to the voices of others. NVC teaches us how to be present and authentic in the moment, how to respond rather than to react when we receive a difficult message, how to recognize our own and others' feelings and needs, how to make requests rather than demands, how to be truly grateful and how to honor the energy of anger without stealing peace from our relationships and the environment. During the training event, I made new friends from around the United States and around the world: France, Germany, the Netherlands, Wales, New Zealand, Australia, Switzerland. There were forty-eight participants in the program. We lived together at the Madonna Center in Albuquerque, New Mexico, where we enjoyed inspiring views of the Sandia Mountains and the Rio Grande River. We were well fed while we bonded, shared our gifts and enjoyed being truly alive together. I had opportunities to tell some of my favorite stories and the group was delighted to receive them. This, as always, delighted me in return! We engaged in role-play, taking turns being giraffes and jackals. We practiced, practiced, practiced the art of receiving difficult-to-receive messages with an open heart. We poured vessels of empathy on each other and learned how to give empathy to ourselves. We danced. We sang. We allowed each other to cry; tears were part of our communication. We laughed the kind of hearty laughter that knocks the dust off the walls. We made room for whatever came to life within us. The world is a better place for our efforts and our learning. I like to imagine all of us, back in our towns and our homes, listening with compassion to the people around us. This is the way to start a new year.

I will be offering spirituality retreats this year, offering stories and inviting others to share their stories. As a part of everything I do there will be compassionate communication. We have the power to make our worlds more peaceful.

I Won!

My story, "Traps," has won Honorable Mention in the Memphis Magazine Fiction Competition!

For many years I have hungered to have my writing recognized in Memphis. I live in a city and a region where I am surrounded by creative writing talent. Chief among my desires has been the longing to be recognized as a winner in the Memphis Magazine Annual Fiction Competition. Toward that goal I have submitted four short stories over the years and twice aborted work on a piece of short fiction. Some stories just cannot get their clothes on and their hair combed in time for the deadline.

This past year I was more intentional about reading quality fiction, paying attention to style, syntax, tone, point of view and character development. I attended the Iowa Writer's Conference at the University of Iowa where I received pointed instruction on writing fiction. I also made a decision, one year ago, to begin thinking of myself as a writer. A woman, a mother, a partner, a friend. Sometimes a gardener and many times a dreamer. But most of all I have rounded a corner to a place where I see myself writing. There are so many stories to be written.

I am deeply honored by this recognition. The $500.00 prize will be a pleasure to receive. But most of all I am basking in the affirmation. My creative work matters. I am hugging myself with joy!

Pantum

Mom quit eating,
Stopped opening her mouth for the spoon.
She's forgotten how to suck through a straw.
Her tongue is dry like beach sand.

Stopped opening her mouth for the spoon.
Should we tilt her head and pour food in?
Her tongue is dry like beach sand.
The air is taking over.

Should we tilt her head and pour food in?
Seems more like rape than nurture.
The air is taking over.
What's inside is the same as what's outside.

Seems more like rape than nurture
Forcing pureed fruits and vegetables in.
What's inside is the same as what's outside.
She's becoming one with the dust motes floating,
old hymns she has always sung.

Forcing pureed fruits, vegetables in
We rob her of the only power she has left.
She's becoming one with the dust motes floating,
old hymns she has always sung.

Let her go.
Like a melody on the sunbeams
that pave a highway through the window.
Let her go with the next refreshing breeze.

Sunday Morning in Plains, GA

We had the honor and the privilege of meeting and spending some time with Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter. This is now and always will be a highmark moment in our life. By way of explanation as to how Anna, my partner, and I were able to have this good fortune, my brother is the president at Georgia Southwestern University in Americus, Georgia. In that position he has come to know and work with the Carters. The Rosalynn Carter Institute for Caregivers is located on the campus of Georgia Southwestern. And the Carters value the school. So it was a family affair a few weeks ago when we visited my brother, Kendall and his wife, Connie. All of us went to Sunday school and worship at Maranatha Baptist Church in Plains. President Carter teaches the adult Bible class during Sunday school. He is an excellent teacher. He is one of those teachers who cares deeply about the subject he's teaching. As a student I felt safe in his class, the way you feel when the teacher is both intelligent and gifted at teaching. President Carter has studied the Bible for so long and well that he feels right at home with the material. He has a genuine desire to make the Bible accessible to the student. He's interesting and makes the lesson relevant. I was so proud when he invited me to pray as the class began. Gave me a chance to share my own gift.

I admire Jimmy and Rosalynn Carter. They are authentic and principled people. I appreciate the ways that they have used their faith and their power to make the world a better place.

We ate lunch with them at Mama's Kitchen in Plains. They are easy to be with, like good neighbors. There is nothing ostentatious about the Carters. Both Jimmy and Rosalynn had buttermilk to drink with their turnip greens, fried okra, sliced tomatoes and cornbread. They admire the woman who owns and operates Mama's Kitchen. Jimmy introduced us to her before we left the restaurant. She was snapping beans in the front room. It was clear that the Carters have enjoyed a long and mutual relationship with this successful business woman. Real people among real people.

The picture was made after dinner and outside Mama's Kitchen. Left to Right: Kendall Blanchard, Rosalynn Carter, Anna Neal, Elaine Blanchard and Connie Blanchard.

I'm grateful to my brother and his wife for making this happen. And I'm grateful to the Carters for sharing their time and wonderful spirits with us. It's reassuring to meet them. Meeting them created a notalgia in my heart for the days when I still trusted the people in politics and power.