Humility

Dear friends, 

Those who are in Louisville and nearby are experiencing cool August days, something that is very unusual and, in my humble opinion, absolutely glorious!

Speaking of humble things, let me offer this little story that came to mind today. Thirteen years ago I was in India working with the Sisters of Charity of Nazareth (SCNs) teaching English.  My time there was filled with great growth and learning. This story is not about one of the loftier lessons. 

Shortly after I arrived, the sisters helped me pick out a sari and other traditional Indian clothing. I only wore the sari for special occasions and the sisters always helped me put it on. Mastering the assemblage of a sari is no small feat! Each time they helped me, I studied what we were doing- the wrapping, the folds, the pins. I was determined that I would learn to do it without help. 

Toward the end of my time there I was at the kickoff of the SCN's bicentennial celebration. I had decided that I was ready to put my sari on all by myself. As evening came, I went to my room, excited to surprise everyone with my expertise in sari-wearing. A few minutes later a sister knocked on my door. "I've been looking for you. We have to put your sari on!"

Proudly, I told her I was going to do it myself. 

She looked at me and said, "But we want you to look good!"

I accepted her help. 

The word "humility" comes from humus, "earth." In humility, we are reminded that we are of the earth and on the earth. Sometimes we choose to practice humility, open-heartedly recognizing our dust-mud-soil existence. Other times when our feet float off the ground, someone "invites" us back down to earth. 

In the last month I've had the humble recognition that a decision I made two years ago led me into earthy depths that I didn't know I was entering. Darkness, dirt and grit, struggle. I wasn't in it all the time, of course, but looking back, I see that I was submerged underground more than I had realized. It is only as I am starting to reach back toward the airy light that I am becoming cognizant of how deep underground I had gone. It was a time of stretching my roots, fortifying myself in the dark, fertile compost (some of that compost was old parts of me), preparing for new growth. 

As I reach upward now, I am ready to be fully out in the light. 

At least I think so. Who knows if someone is about to step into my life to say, "Wait, there's a little more for us to do together before you go out fully on your own." 

If I'm being honest, I hope I'll always be willing to accept some help. It can be pretty lonely thinking I can do it all myself. Unsurpirisingly, I get less done working alone. Or I get stuck, and nothing gets done. I've tried it a time or two or three or...That stubborn independence was part of what sent me downward two years ago. Lately I've been asking for and receiving support to help me move toward the light. It is humbling.

Leaning into this interconnected humility feels really good. 

~~~~~~
And I wonder about you...

When have you experienced earthy humility? 

How does it feel to you?  

Who has brought you down to earth and who has helped you when you've come down to earth unexpectedly? 

I’d love to know.

With gratitude, 
Cory

Trusting Ourselves

Dear friends, 

I hope you are well, enjoying the beauiful days of early summer. 

For me, and, I know, for some of you, even amidst the beauty and celebrations of May, the last couple of weeks have been pretty intense. Along with the many things going on in the world, a report was released about a week and a half ago detailing the extensive abuse of a very well-connected person here in Louisville, a former Presbyterian pastor who, more recently, was very involved in, and often leading, interfaith initiatives. I have known him for about a decade. The report details his abuse when he was pastor before I knew him.

I am connected to many, many people who either experienced his abuse, both while he was a pastor and in the decade since, or who are reeling from the news of it. I know that keeping more people safe from him means sharing his name, and I have and will in other contexts. Here I am choosing not to. I don't want to speak/write/see his name*. 

Since the report came out, I've been part of many conversations with people about the report, their experiences, and the resulting shame, embarrassment, self-doubt, confusion, anger, grief, and more. I have also experienced this range of emotions. I could write volumes about each emotion, but today self-doubt gets the spotlight.

When I work with people, I often say, "I do not want you to trust me to the detriment of trusting yourself." 

There are so many ways we are taught to ignore, deny, dismiss, or numb our inner knowing. We are taught that there are authorities- religious, political, secular, familial- who know better than we do. We are encouraged to trust and follow them, even when our bodies are giving us warning signals that something is off. If trauma is a part of our story, understanding and trusting our bodies' signals is even more complicated.

Self-doubt serves a charismatic, abusive leader well. The patterns of manipulation only become clear in retrospect or from a distance. Once we see the patterns, we question, "Why didn't I see it?" "Why did I laugh that off?" "Why didn't I speak up?" 

Even outside of the context of abuse, self-doubt is a normal part of being human. Wanting to see the best in someone and offering grace are also so very human and really quite wonderful. That we would experience these doesn't mean there's something wrong with us or that we have reason to be ashamed. We're just human- messy, complicated, beautiful humans. 

Knowing this, the question then becomes: If self-doubt is so pervasive, how do we move toward self-trust? 

I belive it's through practice. I believe it's through tuning to the body and being in dialogue with it. Dominant culture doesn't encourage us to love or honor our body wisdom. Compassionate Communication has helped me tune in more skillfully and identify more easily what my body is telling me- that I want safety, ease, acceptance, understanding, something else. 

When I'm struggling, thankfully I have a few friends I can turn to to help me see and move through what is murky, unclear, difficult. I have come to trust them because when I've been most vulnerable, they have been ever so gentle with me. They affirm my worth, even when I'm feeling low. These are the ones who, even when challenging me, do so in a care-filled way. Even when they present a perspective very different from my own, they give space for me to be choiceful about what I do with that perspective. These are the ones who, in action and word, help me to trust myself more, not less.

This is how I hope to be with others. Sometimes I do so well. Other times, less well. I will keep trying. 

And I wonder about you: 

How or when do you experience self-doubt? 

What or who has helped you to trust yourself more? 

I'd love to know. 

If you want to explore self-trust with me, the next Savoring Time mini-retreat is coming up on June 9. Each one of these in-person experiences is an experiment with our individual and collective wisdom. June's theme is Light!

For a more sustained and a deeper dive into self-trust, I'll be facilitating The Artist's Way starting August 17th. I am offering this on a sliding scale and have payment plans available. Through June 15th, there is an Early Early Bird rate of $50 off for the Standard registration level. 

I am also excited to be a part of my first gallery art show. The opening reception is coming up this Thursday, June 6th, so if you want to see my collages and the works of Joan Zehnder and Kathy Christian, I hope you'll come to the show or visit the gallery during the 6 weeks it's up!
     
To learn more about these and other events, visit this page. If they speak to you, I hope you'll join me.  If you know of others who'd love this work, please share with them!

With love, 
Cory

*I originally wrote this for an email and did not link the report. Here, though I am still not using his name in the post, I am choosing to link the executive summary and the full report about the abuse. Both were originally posted here. If you decide to read them, please give yourself time, space, and whatever other support you might need to process. They are not easy to read and, as noted above, can bring up a lot of strong emotions. If you are a survivor of abuse, please be particularly care-filled as you decide if and how to engage.

Do You Know How Beautiful You Are?

Dear friends, 

A few days ago my mind was wandering as I sat in the passenger seat of my friend's car. During a lull in the conversation, an image began to form in my mind: 

A mirror with the words, "Do you know how beautiful you are?" written around it. I let my mind continue to clarify the picture and then told my friend, "I know what my Art Squared piece is going to be." 

For 11 years Louisville Visual Art has hosted a fundraiser, Art Squared, for which artists donate a square piece of particular size to be auctioned. I submitted a piece for the first time last year and am happy to do so again this year. 

After the car ride, I started working on the piece, first writing on the canvas in a spiral, "Do you know how beautiful you are?" over and over. Then I covered it with paint. I'll put a round mirror in the center and around it, I'll again spiral the words. 

As I've been creating, I've been reflecting on the question. How many of us truly see the fullness of our being, all the ways we shine brightly, the ripples of love emanating from our simple existence?  

I suspect most of us don't see our beauty clearly. I can recall times I've wished a friend or acquaintance could see their light shining in the same way I could. A few months ago a friend expressed that same wish for me. Until she said it, I hadn't even realized how much I was obscuring the radiant parts of me from myself.

I've been offering myself more grace since then, practicing care for the parts of me I judge to be less-than, practicing connection with my brightness even during circumstances that may not feel easy, bright, or beauty-filled.

When I am confident in my love-core, what I believe is the essence of each of us, I can respond from that center. When I am only aware of the gnarly parts of me, the hardened places, the parts that may seem grimy on the surface, I may respond from those shallower, less steady places. I want to respond more consistently from the center. 

Since the beginning of 2024 I've been spending a lot of time in my studio, mostly creating collages. The studio is a place where my whole being comes out. Yesterday's time there included working on the Art Squared piece focused on beauty and on a piece about rage. Externalized in this visual form, I can see all parts of me as beautiful. 

As I'm writing, I'm thinking about Howard Thurman's words: "Don't ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive and go do it. Because what the world needs is more people who have come alive." 

Isn't that when we're at our most beautiful- when we're doing what makes us come alive? 

The thought bring conflicting emotions- joy for those who can do what makes them come alive, gratitude for the ways and places I come alive, and grief for those who don't have the same access to what gives them life and amplifies their beauty. Rather than following the grief at this moment, I'm going to focus on the joy, gratitude, and aliveness. And I wonder:  

What makes you come alive?

Where and how do you see your own beauty? 

One place I connect with mine is in retreat spaces. On Sunday I'm offering this month's Savoring Time mini-retreat, with the theme of Bloom! These sweet times to slow down have been so life-giving, so beauty-filled. 
 
Saturday was going to be the start of The Artist's Way. Recognizing that my excitement to start as soon as possible was a bit hasty, I've moved the start to August 17th. If you were considering the process and summer dates didn't work, I hope you'll join us in the fall. The Artist's Way offers many, many opportunities to connect to your own beauty and the beauty around us. 
     
To learn more about upcoming offerings, visit this page. If they speak to you, I hope you'll join me.  If you know of others who'd love this work, please share with them!

With love, 
Cory