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Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Mulling over what I might say about our present conflict-ridden atmosphere, I came across the term “conflict prone.”

The term “conflict prone” refers to a situation or individual that is likely to lead to conflict or disputes. It describes characteristics that may result in unrest or disorder. For example, areas described as conflict-prone may experience frequent clashes or tensions. 

(Ludwig AI)

When I was seven or eight, my mother, always a soft heart for “strays,” arranged to pick up a little girl for church every Sunday.  Every time as we got closer to their home, my stomach would begin to clinch.  It never failed that her family was on the porch hurling insults and obscenities at each other.  Given that in my home during my entire growing up I heard my father say “damn” once. I only ever heard my mother, extremely frustrated, on three occasions exclaim “hell’s bells!” I had never experienced such vile language and certainly didn’t expect family members to be so hateful to one another.

As a therapist I often encountered such families, where conflict was the order of the day. “High-conflict personalities are fundamentally adversarial personalities,” reported Bill Eddy. LCSW, JD, in a November 6, 2017 article in “Psychology Today.”   “They don’t see their part in their own problems and instead are preoccupied with blaming others—possibly you….They all have the basic HCP pattern of: 1) targets of blame, 2) a lot of all-or-nothing thinking, 3) unmanaged emotions, and 4) extreme behaviors.”

What I observed in my practice was that these personalities generally grew up in households where this style of “communication” was most often how people “related.”  Sometimes it was a more recent development in response to some change the family was not navigating well.  In any case, this argumentative stance typically served to maintain a distance that kept people from having to develop relationship skills about which they felt less competent or less inclined to learn or practice. 

Surprisingly, when I simply typed in “conflict” the first thing that came up was an article I myself had written in 2007 to my conflict-ridden church.  “Conflict is the beauty and the curse of diversity,” was my opening line, a quote from one of the members present at the meeting where the church sought to find a way forward.  They had identified ways to become healthier, to include covenanting among themselves that:

 6.We will behave respectfully towards one another.

  7.We will build bridges to one another.

Some of the ways # 6 and # 7 could be operationalized  would be to:

• Tell the truth. (Each of us have our own truth, our own perspective.

 We can honor each other’s truth).

• Honor transparency.( Be upfront. No hidden agendas, no “code”

 is spoken that disguises information).

• Practice open and civil communication.  (Communicate respect in

voice tone and body language). 

That church did eventually become healthier but it took a very long time, leadership, a united will and motivation  May all those factors come into play to develop a desire for a healthier nation, surely buried somewhere within us, to be revived.

   The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Lately I feel like I am “dumpster diving” for scraps of hope in the trash bin full of the shreds of our democracy.  Or perhaps I am more like a beggar by the side of the road with my crudely written cardboard sign: “A kind word. A kind gesture.  Anything to keep me going…..God bless.”

And yet, even just today, a friend relayed an exchange she had heard on tv where the interviewee was asked how she was coping.  She said she spent 85% of her time doing normal things, taking care of daily responsibilities, spending time with friends; the other 15% she took actions to address the problems confronting us at this time.  This effort towards balance resonated with me.  Then today on Facebook I saw where another friend is spearheading an effort to gather food for the Crow tribe’s food bank which lost its federal funding due to Doge cuts.  To know of these endeavors is balm to my weary spirit.

The writings of those who seek to uplift, to challenge us to continue to work for the common good, to remind us of all the good of which we are capable also bolster me.    Last June I listened to an On Being  podcast by Krista Tippett in conversation with Ocean Vuong.  Some of the thoughts that especially caught my attention:  “We have to create conditions for hope….bring more vivid, intentional language into our atmosphere…pay attention to the words you use to engage…building a vocabulary that makes it more likely for what is more life-giving and redemptive.”

A master of that type of vocabulary was John O’Donohue, about whom I have written before.  In another On Being podcast in which Tippett interviewed O’Donohue, he referred to Pascal’s phrase that one “should always keep something beautiful in your mind,” adding that he had often “like in times when it’s been really difficult for me, if you can keep some kind of little contour that you can glimpse sideways at, now and then, you can endure great bleakness.”  (from a podcast February 28,2008)

In this time of ‘great bleakness,’ may we also experience hope for and vision beyond the present circumstances. I have only just now come across the book “Hope In the Dark. ” I have not read it but am intrigued by the description: “This book encourages us to look away from the brightly lit stage and the tragedy being acted on it, and to see into the shadows, to an alternate understanding of how power plays out.  It is an incitement to activism, a manifesto for realizing how we can achieve change—it is filled with hope.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

Returning from a family vacation when my daughter was five, a vacation she had particularly enjoyed, I heard her singing to herself in the back seat: “I love my mother and she loves me and she knows I’m good. And I love my daddy and I love God and I love everybody.  And I especially love my mother.” I’m not sure what garnered me that much affirmation but I’ve kept that memory tucked away for the times she “didn’t especially” love me!  But I digress.

My point is that we have those moments when we just have a magnanimous sense of love that spreads a wide net around us.  But I think of the saying “I love humanity.  It’s people I can’t stand.”  Sometimes our “love for all” is a rather thin veneer over bias/judgement/distrust/even hate.  Many churches post some version of “All are welcome” and some even live up to it.  But many times even church folk discover how difficult it can be to live that out.  I recall some years ago the story of a pastor who disguised himself outside the church as a homeless person before the Sunday morning service.  One person after another passed him by without acknowledgement or an offer to help or to invite him in.  This is not a judgement on those who ignored him.  It is a call to us to recognize our own instincts to recoil. 

Once when I was acting as sabbatical pastor at my home church, a clearly homeless person showed up, installed himself on one of the pews, pulled off a trench coat to cover himself with it as he stretched out on the bench.  Because we had once had a psychotic person who totally “unraveled” during a service, I asked two members to sit nearby should our visitor need some help.  Yet this fellow seemed to be taking the opportunity to rest, not engaging in the service: that is, until the end of the service when he asked to share something.  I took a big gulp and said “Yes, of course.”  He then began to sing a hymn in a beautiful melodious voice.  It was not a hymn with which I was familiar but it was heartwarming.  Everyone applauded this startling performance. 

While that is a memory I cherish, I recognize that it might have evolved very differently had he been aggressive or threatening or in some way disruptive.  In such an uncertain and tumultuous time, it is easy to develop suspicion and distrust.  While I don’t advocate throwing caution to the wind, I do encourage us all to keep a check on our thoughts, our feelings, our behaviors that a poisonous atmosphere does not invade our spirits. 

From Brainy Quotes: “The greatest and noblest pleasure which we have in this world is to discover new truths, and the next is to shake off old prejudices.” And from Goodreads: “Viewpoints differing form our own are a blessing to tear open the canvas of ignorance covering our lives.”

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Mercy Now

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

As we drove to North Carolina to visit friends this week, a song came on the radio by an artist we recognized.  I have been meditating on her words since then.  Thank you, Mary Gautier, for penning these words, recorded 20 years ago but every bit as timely today.  Select verses from the song “’Mercy Now.”

“My Church and my Country could use a little mercy now

As they sink into a poisoned pit

That’s going to take forever to climb out

They carry the weight of the faithful

Who follow ‘em down

I love my Church and my Country and they could use some mercy now.

“Every living thing could use a little mercy now

Only the hand of grace can end the race

Towards another mushroom cloud

People in power, well

They’ll do anything to keep their crown

I love life, and life could use a little mercy now.

“Yes, we all could use a little mercy now

I know we don’t deserve it

But we need it anyhow

We hang in the balance

Dangle ‘tween hell and hallowed ground

Every single one of us could use some mercy

now

Every single one of us could use some mercy

now

Every single one of us could use some mercy

now.”

I consider “What else might be said?’  But once again borrowing on another’s words, those of Cris Jami,  I share this:

“Always seek justice, but love only mercy.  To love justice and hate mercy is but a doorway to more injustice.” Amen.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

The Cloud of Unknowing was an assigned book when I was in the Shalem Program for Spiritual Guidance. I recall at the time that the title seemed an enigma, the concept puzzling. In hindsight, I realize I have been in that cloud any number of times.

This week I encountered the quote: “Honor the space between ‘no longer’ and ‘not yet.'” More often I am inclined to resent and resist that space. Honoring such a time would be a much more beneficial approach. While this time of recovery from extensive back surgery offers me lots of time to meditate on what might come next or even just to relax into the present moment—what a thought!—I have too often just been frustrated by it. So this blog serves to challenge me to alter my attitude!

I have stayed stranded between worlds right now, still coming to terms with having given up my pastorate, searching for what draws me, lends meaning, fulfills some outlet. I recalled this week an interchange with a client back in my therapist days. She had moved several states away and we were accomplishing therapy by phone. In response to her frustration with a decision she couldn’t find clarity about, I asked if there was some favorite place in her apartment. She described a spot she especially enjoyed, in which she felt more peaceful. I encouraged her to spend some time in that spot. She did and later reported she had found that helpful. I myself have been discovering that when I sit on my front porch in the mornings, bit by bit, I am beginning to feel some sense of peace and faint bits for consideration.

There is a poem I wrote in 2002, five years before my entrance into the Shalem program. I titled it “Rumblings” but it could have been subtitled “The Cloud of Unknowing.” It too was an enigma to me at the time when it was not at all clear to me where that poem came from within me. I was clueless why I would have written it or what it meant.

Rumblings

                                                There are rumblings in my soul.

                                                The earth cracks open:

                                                Lava spills out

                                                Across the landscape of my life,

                                                Warming me/burning me.

                                                There are rumblings in my soul.

                                                The earth cradles me,

                                                Even as it shifts,

                                                Moving me in some direction

                                                I strain to perceive.

                                                There are rumblings in my soul.

                                                The earth propels me:

                                                Whether I stumble or find sure footing,

                                                I am sustained.

                                                There are rumblings in my soul:

                                                Prophets of the earth,

                                                Foretelling change to come,

                                                Change erupting even now,

                                                Gift of the universe.

                                                            —-Kate Stulce

                                                            Written October 2002

                                                            Sante Fe, New Mexico*

                                    * Descriptive of the spiritual journey I have experienced,

                                    which was only beginning to evolve when I wrote this poem.

If you are in any “betwixt and between” time, I hope you will take the opportunity to honor it.

The invitation is open to share “two cups of tea” anytime at Hope’s Café, or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Cafe

A lot of mornings I wake up with some random song running through my head. Today it was “Climb Every Mountain,” a song of encouragement flowing from the lips of Julie Andrews in “The Sound of Music,” urging us on to “follow every rainbow….till you find your dream.” Clearly, we might have to climb mountains and ford streams to reach that dream, as the words intone.

John Muir, also known as “John of the Mountains” and “The Father of National Parks,” the founder of the Sierra Club, had just such a journey. Muir was born in Scotland and emigrated from there with his family when he was 11. He was always drawn to nature. His rather restless spirit got him into conflict with his very strict fundamentalist father. While he rejected his childhood teachings of a formidable God, he remained characterized by an understanding of nature as “the true sanctuary of God.” He called all of nature “Godful.”

As an adult, Muir faced an immense challenge that influenced the course he took in life. In 1866,when he was working in a wagon wheel factory, a tool he was using slipped and hit him in the eye, impacting his vision. His other eye also deteriorated. He was kept in total darkness for six weeks in hopes of restoring the vision, which was forever impaired, though he was not left blind. He did some soul searching and concluded that he would radically alter his life’s direction.

The next year he set out walking a thousand miles from Kentucky down to Florida, arriving at Cedar Key, FL., where he secured employment with a Richard Hodgson, working at the Hodgson sawmill. However, after only three days he contracted a form of malaria, was in a state of delirium for nearly three months and nearly died. He recognized when he recovered that the care he had received from Hodgson and his wife during this time had saved his life.

One evening sitting on the Hodgsons’ roof watching the sunset, he saw a ship, the Island Belle, and learned it was soon to sail for Cuba. He purchased passage on it, heading to Havanna, where he studied shells and flowers and visited the city’s botanical gardens. Eventually he would make his way to California, settling in San Francisco. He worked for a time in Yosemite where he did indeed climb mountains, including Cathedral Peak and Mount Dana. He built a cabin near Yosemite Creek, designed such that a section of the creek ran through a corner of the cabin so that he could always hear running water. In his bookFirst Summer in the Sierra he wrote about his experiences there.

I recognize that learning about Muir has had special meaning to me as our country faces a time when public lands are threatened. This was true in Muir’s time, motivating him to fight to save areas for national forests. As he wrote: “Thousands of tired, nerve-shaken people are beginning to find out that going to the mountains is going home, that wilderness is a necessity.” Now more than ever we need the sustenance of nature. May the life and work of Muir challenge us to work on the behalf of our public lands and for our Mother Earth.

The invitation is open to share “two cups of tea” anytime at Hope’s Café, or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

Two Cups of Tea at Hope’s Café

First of all, just a shoutout to the good folks at PCPI Computer store who got me back online with wordpress after I was suddenly locked out. ( They didn’t even charge me!  Asked me just to spread the word so I am).   I almost gave up, considered if this was a sign to shut down the blog.  But I realize I still count on it to keep me writing with some regularity and hopefully offering something of value to others at least from time to time.  I was surprised when I realized I had actually only missed one week’s blog.  So here I am back at it!

In reading over the last blog before the lockout, I see that this blog is something of a part two.  I think of discouragement as a crossroads where one can choose to give in to despair often leading to depression or to find some means to act to challenge the despair.  This week offered me a good example of that.  WordPress doesn’t offer a good way I could find to address being locked out.  I was indeed discouraged.  I considered just canceling my subscription before they charge me again in October.  However, the irony was I couldn’t find any way on WordPress to cancel a subscription for an account I couldn’t access!

Relying on the referral of our daughter and son in law to their “computer guy” (At PCPI), I found my way to the store and threw myself on the mercy of a very patient man, who not only got me back on my wordpress site, but also got me back online with BC/BS and confirmed my current contact numbers with Google.  The lesson here is to get help when you need it.  If you are discouraged, drifting—or tumbling—towards depression, ask for help. So often we think we can handle things on our own.  Often we can.  But there are those times when we really must seek help.   At the very least we can make things so much easier on ourselves when we do.

Following my father’s death, I was really crashing.  But, hey, I’m a Licensed Clinical Social Worker and also assisting in pastoral duties! I can do this!  I’ll never forget my kind pastor pointing out that my body language was like that of the painting of “The Scream.”  When he pointed that out, I was immediately aware it indeed was.  He strongly urged me to get a therapist.  I worked with a bereavement counselor and saw my doctor for meds.  I began to recover.

Our world today certainly lends itself to discouragement and development of depression and anxiety.  I cannot affirm enough that keeping oneself centered through meditation, nature, a good support system, music, and other means that keep you grounded, are invaluable.

I leave you with these thoughts:

“There is hope even when your brain tells you there isn’t.” — John Green.

“If there is hope in the future, there is literally power in the present.” — Zig Ziglar

“Hope is being able to see there is light in spite of the darkness.”—Fity.Club

The invitation is open to share “two cups of tea” anytime at Hope’s Café, or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we be bearers of hope, the “wait staff” of Hope’s Café for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate

I am locked out of my WordPress account. I don’t know when this will be corrected. I will get back to you folks when I am able.😊

Before I ever was pursuing ordination, I first explored being commissioned as a spiritual director. Because I am a bit quirky, in my own estimation, and perhaps that of many others, I didn’t quite look especially “commissionable” to some on the committee. Our interim pastor at the time reported a conversation she had had with one of the committee members who asked her, ” Do you think Kate is scattered?” My pastor, bless her, said, “I’ve never known a spiritual director who wasn’t because they keep all their channels open. If I ever need to know anything about what is going on within the church, I turn to Kate, who has her finger on the pulse.”

A niece of mine often posts that she is weird or quirky. Good! Join the club! The world is better for those who can live authentically. So live your “weirdness.” Not everyone is so blessed.

One of my tasks when I was in the ministry course that did in fact lead to my ordination, was to put together a portfolio. In one section, I used the following quote:

“HERE’S TO THE CRAZY ONES.  THE MISFITS.  THE REBELS.  THE TROUBLEMAKERS.  THE ROUND PEGS IN SQUARE HOLES.  THE ONES WHO SEE THINGS DIFFERENTLY.  THEY’RE NOT FOND OF RULES.  AND THEY HAVE NO RESPECT FOR THE STATUS QUO.  YOU CAN QUOTE THEM, DISAGREE WITH THEM, GLORIFY OR VILIFY THEM.  ABOUT THE ONLY THING YOU CAN’T DO IS IGNORE THEM.  BECAUSE THEY CHANGE THINGS.  THEY PUSH THE HUMAN FORCES.  AND WHILE SOME MAY SEE THEM AS THE CRAZY ONES, WE SEE GENIUS.  BECAUSE THE PEOPLE WHO ARE CRAZY ENOUGH TO THINK THEY CAN CHANGE THE WORLD, ARE THE ONES WHO DO.”—APPLE INC.

I complained a lot about hoops (more than I care to remember) that I jumped through to reach ordination. But I also have some compassion for the folks who were charged with considering my fitness for ministry. I could hardly blame them that they found me a mystery, or perhaps, more of a problem child. I even joked with my mentor that the song in “The Sound of Music” described my relationship with my committee: “How do you solve a problem like Maria?
How do you catch a cloud and pin it down?
How do you find a word that means Maria?
A flibbertigibbet! A will-o’-the wisp! A clown!”

So here’s to all those who by their nature live “outside the box,” who seek to live their authentic selves.

The invitation is open to share two cups of tea anytime at Hope’s Café or anywhere you share companionship and conversation.

May we bearers of hope, the “wait staff” at Hope’s Café, for each other and all those we encounter.  Shalom, Kate