Spirited Woman Blogger Team

Morning Fires

On some mornings, love is the only thing that exists and this poem keeps its song alive.

MORNING FIRES

I awoke this morning
with the world in my heart,
far-reaching skies of sun-dipped clouds
the vaulted ceilings for stirring vale and forest
and vast oceans surging toward the shore,
with silver-backed dolphins
their beaded and dazzling joy.
How many of you have known this fullness?
Shaken off the night and so, too, the cloak of too many despondent musings
and the troubles that wear thin your finest soles?
Today you move like a song lifting the ordinary with its delicate verse,
your eyes alight with some new wonder —
the memory of the hand that reached so softly for your sleeping form
and untangled the knots of your yearning
to weave moonbeams in your hair
and soothe your burdened brow
with the cool satin of stardust.
And so you greet this day with a brave translucence,
a dangling trust in your unclenched fists.
Do not be deterred by the razor’s edge
or the crow’s portentous call.
Make this your prayer of gratitude.
Where you would hoard this fresh contentment
from the one who has been more thorn than fragrant bloom —
strike a match.
Love’s awakening demands a conflagration.
There is no selectivity when the Beloved’s gaze has found yours
and kindled your heart
to a wild and raging tenderness.

- Naila Francis
Click here for more of Naila's posts.

Sometimes Letting Go is About Learning To Love The Self

(Photo: Naila and her niece Josie)

I have been pondering and contemplating what to say in this post that, at least for now, will be my last for TheSpiritedWoman.com.

A goodbye of sorts seemed in order; so, too, an expression of gratitude -- to you, the readers who have faithfully followed my posts, letting me into your lives to share my passion for the creative arts and at times to bare my soul; to the team of bloggers for the honor of being in such dynamic and inspiring company; and of course, to founder Nancy Mills, for not only offering such an opportunity to write in a previously untapped vein but for her vision, enthusiasm and tremendous dedication in encouraging woman everywhere to celebrate their aliveness and enoughness.

It seems no coincidence that as I leave this space, at least from the perspective of a contributing writer, the Universe has gifted me with two opportunities to consider what it is I will do with this slice of freedom carved into so much busy living.

One came in the form of a newsletter from a favorite Philadelphia organization, the Arts & Spirituality Center, which works to transform communities through creative and spiritual expression. In reflecting on the down time that many of the center's staff is taking this summer to renew and reconnect to fresh inspiration, I was reminded that the call to engage in "recreation and re-creation," is indeed an important one. Sometimes it looks like paring down or scaling back, sometimes stepping away, or even stepping down. That time can be playful or introspective or even both, but that period, however long and whatever the direction it leads to, is essential in tending the soul.

Where Are You Most at Home?

Four more days until I head home. Home. After more than 20 years of living in the states, I still refer to St. Lucia as home, though I left it as a child, though my visits have grown sporadic and further apart the older I've become, though most of my life experiences are rooted in my time here than there, though ironically enough when I arrive I will speak of my return to Philadelphia as the trip back home ...

What is it that makes a home?

I know of course that the physical space -- the bricks and mortar of it all and the possessions we've accumulated that define where we've been and where we're going -- is of less consequence for many than the love and connection that abides there. And even when I refer to Philadelphia as home, it is more because of the community I've built here, the people who nourish and sustain me and make my life the rich and meaningful tapestry that it is.

But for me, the Caribbean will always be home in an elemental way that has shaped much of who I am without me even realizing it. I remember years ago attending a party when one of the guests whom I'd been talking quite casually with said, "You're not from the U.S., are you?" I've long lost my St. Lucian accent; there is nothing that would specifically brand me as an island girl. Yet I think there is some quality of soul that carries the mark of our true home.

Some of us may still be searching for that place. And sometimes, we experience a glimmer of such belonging -- when we walk into a space that effortlessly lifts our spirits or soothes us in a way we weren't even aware we needed soothing, when everything about us seems to sink into some deep and primal welcome that feeds us from within.

Children Effortlessly Bring Our Attention To the "Now"

This post is as much a tribute to wise and witty singer-songwriter Sara Hickman, an extraordinary philanthropist in addition to being a gifted musical talent, as it is to my younger brother Joachim and the wonderful dad he is to my niece, Josie.

While I know there are times when his parenting ideals are chipped away by the doubt, exhaustion, frustration and that whole gamut of emotions that I'm sure many parents experience amid the profound love that exists for their children, I can't help but feel proud and so grateful for the example he is setting for Josie.

I was even more struck by the mindfulness, joy and compassion he brings to fatherhood when I recently heard the lyrics to Look At Me, a sweetly poignant song from Hickman's 2003 album, Big Kid. Sung by her daughter, Lily, only 6-years-old at the time, the song speaks with simple eloquence to a child's hunger for attention when faced with over-committed parents and the easy alternatives to active participation in their children's lives that many frequently turn to.

When young Lily sings that she longs for a genuine encounter, eager for her busy parent to notice the person growing inside of her, I sadly reflected on how many children could probably echo those sentiments -- and I saluted my brother for all the ways he gives of his time and his heart to Josie.

From the moment she was born, he's always been careful to preserve his quality time with her, whether it's spent coloring or making music together, hiking through the woods or playing Frisbee. Even just this past week, when I offered him an extra ticket to a reggae show with an artist he loved, despite the quandary of wanting to say yes, he turned it down, knowing that he had promised his own family an outing on that same night.

Though Hickman sings both adult and children's music, in her children's songs, there is the sense that she is fully aware of the preciousness of these years and appreciates the bright curiosity of these little souls who are constantly evolving and forming their own ideas of the world.

Tune into this artful YouTube clip of "Look At Me" to get a sense of just how this Spirited Woman is raising a Spirited Daughter, and the next time your attention is being pulled away from your giant to-do list, remember that little person beside you is not only deserving of your attention but that their presence also is a reminder of our own inherent innocence and appetite for joy.

- Naila Francis
Click here for more of Naila's posts.

Speak a Blessing to Extend and Invite A Sacred Trust

Recently, I had the privilege of attending an intense and inspiring five-day course known as the BuildaBridge Institute. Presented by BuildaBridge, a Philadelphia-based nonprofit that engages the power of the arts to bring hope and healing to the world's underprivileged children, it was yet another stepping-stone in my journey to launch Words With Wings, which as I mentioned in a previous post is an ambitious undertaking to travel to Africa with a group of artists to work with kids using poetry and music. While the workshop provided many tools and insights for such projects, one of the things shared that most moved me was a core BuildaBridge intention of speaking a blessing into the life of each child encountered through the arts.

While, of course, the goal of transforming lives through the creative arts is a most admirable one, we were told that what we are really doing with these children is building relationships. And there is something about a blessing that recognizes so much more than the physical presence before us -- an honoring of the light within, of the space of heart meeting heart in some communion that also acknowledges a grand potential, dream or desire perhaps still untapped and helps to call it forth.

What would it be like if we incorporated such blessings into our every day, uprooting them from their traditional place at mealtimes and special occasions and as part of ritual ceremonies? We don't necessarily have to speak an actual blessing in words to every individual we come across but we can treat each encounter as something sacred, aware that whenever we are in the presence of another, there is an opportunity to be both blessed and be a blessing, even if it is simply through a brief exchange of joy or the sharing of new information.

Sometimes Loneliness Has Its Own Song to Sing

I felt lonely.

On the surface, it made no sense. I was at work, with a hefty to-do list and my boss, with whom I often banter throughout the day, seated right across from me. I had instant access to countless friends and loved ones via e-mail or the phone, and I was even headed to the bridal shower of one my dearest friends that night. A busy weekend lay ahead with a wedding, my brother's birthday dinner, a wonderful solstice celebration and cherished time with my Spirited Man, Zane.

Yet all day, the feeling persisted -- a tender, quiet ache that seemed to sneak up out of nowhere, made all the more surprising given the easy joy I'd felt the day before. It brought tears to my eyes when I called my good friend from Atlanta to wish her happy birthday. It came with moments of lethargy when earlier that morning I had been excited and looking forward to the shower that I and the other bridesmaids had been busily planning for weeks. There was a restlessness, too, a reluctance to focus on the task at hand, as I wondered what my loneliness had to say.

Did I have misgivings about traveling to St. Lucia, for which I'd just confirmed my time off, to visit my dad as he recuperates from his bypass surgery? Given the challenging circumstances and the stress that his condition has put the entire family under, to call the trip a vacation didn't seem quite apt, even if I would be heading to a tropical paradise. Was I feeling an impending sense of loss, fearing a change in the relationship with my dear friend who would be getting married once she left single womanhood behind to enter the world of married couples?

It was important to me that I not run from my loneliness or try to detach myself from it or pretend it didn't exist. I could have called Zane or taken a "retail therapy" break or found countless other ways to draw myself away from my feelings. However, with a full, vibrant, absolutely rewarding life that I give thanks for every day, I have learned that often times those emotions that are the more difficult to experience can be great teachers if we give them the space to simply "be" whenever they show up in our lives.

"Respect: A Musical Journey of Women"

This past weekend, I had the opportunity to take in a moving and empowering salute to women in the form of a sassy, hilarious, heart-rending and eye-opening piece of theater: Respect: A Musical Journey of Women.

Created by Dr. Dorothy Marcic to be originally performed as a one-woman show, Respect has since evolved into a four-woman production that chronicles, through popular song, the history of women from the early 20th century to present day. Marcic, in fact, wrote the show, based on her book, RESPECT: Women and Popular Music, when she realized how much of our journey as women has been embodied through songs such as I Will Follow Him and Mr. Sandman, where winning the affections of a man were considered a woman's top priority, to perennial favorites such as I Will Survive and Greatest Love of All, which marked the championing of an inner resilience and courage in women capable of choosing their own direction in life.

Through about 60 songs, this musical journey takes us from women's roles as pedestal beauties through the days when our proudest accomplishments were of the domestic kind, even as a growing discontent began to seethe, to our entry into the corporate world and beyond. When the show's heroines, whose stories all represent the many aspects of womanhood past and present, begin to long for more, unwilling to bow to antiquated expectations with songs like These Boots Were Made for Walking and I Am Woman, I couldn't help but root for this hard-won display of girl power. For in Respect, I really did see how the freedoms we enjoy today rest on the shoulders of so many women who came before us, women who dared to defy the norms and boldly flaunted convention to assert their worth and equality.

Carolyn Osborne - Comment Contest Winner's Work of Art Includes a Beautiful Relationship

There are many reasons to celebrate and honor Carolyn Osborne, the Washington-based Spirited Woman, one of two winners in our blog Comment Contest for her heartfelt and empowering response to blogger Kristin Flannery’s post about the Rihanna-Chris Brown abuse saga.

Osborne is a mutli-faceted artist of impressive breadth, offering original jewelry and fused glass works, as well as watercolors and charcoal renderings under the name Creative Forces. This former corrections officer has always been an artist, the sensibility seemingly a part of her very bones with art the vehicle through which she was able to comfortably express herself as a shy child. She in fact chose her business name not only because she works in different mediums but because she believes there is a creative force inherent in all of us, whether we bring that energy to writing or working with numbers, communicating with animals or those in the afterlife. Every child, says Osborne, echoing the words of Pablo Picasso, is an artist, and it is the brave, the passionate and the determined who manage to break through society’s expectations and constraints to nurture and hold onto that child and bring those artistic gifts to life.

Fortunately, Osborne had the support of incredible art teachers growing up who pushed her beyond her own perceived limits. She was initially drawn to watercolors and charcoals, finding a certain peace in creating her bold and whimsical works, but curiosity (and a love of unique jewelry) spurred her onto other endeavors as well. Today, in addition to her artwork and brightly colored, unusual jewelry pieces, she also does custom gift baskets and offers a beautiful tribute to pets and loved ones who have passed, creating fused glass pendants with their ashes under a separate umbrella she calls Sacred Embers. The work also allows the space for her own healing in losing her brother to cancer.

Mothers in Charge Puts a Fresh Face on Courage

There is courage, the kind that accompanies specific acts, an energy of adventure and spirit that makes courting the unfamiliar or daunting an exhilarating experience. Then there is that certain pluckiness, a trait that allows some to follow their heart wherever it beckons without fear or reservation. There is the gallantry that rises up in the face of confrontation or attack and the boldness that some wear like an easy confidence.

When I sat in the room with the women of Mothers In Charge earlier this week, however, the courage I witnessed seemed an act of sheer will, a thrusting forward of heart and soul from such profound depths that it was a force unto itself — one capable of transforming whatever space it poured itself into. This group of women from Philadelphia had all lost children to senseless acts of violence: children with bright, promising futures, children who were a joy and an inspiration, whose absence had now left a void that could never be filled.

Yet rather than allow themselves to be broken by their grief or cowed by the seeming hopelessness of their circumstances, these women have banded together to be of solace to each other, and to offer support to other women who have experienced the anguish of burying a child. Spearheaded by Dorothy Johnson-Speight, whose son was murdered over a parking space in 2001, Mothers In Charge has made violence prevention its mission, working with youth, young adults, families, elected officials and communities to offer education and intervention programs so that others will never experience the tragedies that they have.

Last year, I had the honor of contributing to a book, Faces of Courage, which paid tribute to these amazingly resilient women and honored the memories of their children. And though I was powerfully struck by my interview with Bette Ann Clark, whose 15-year-old son was gunned down a block from his home, it wasn't until I sat in that room with several of the mothers for a book-signing and heard their stories, that I really grasped a true sense of their courage and conviction; their commitment to peace and positive change, even amidst devastating heartache, moved me to tears.

These are women in many ways living a half life but where they shine, where they draw their light is in knowing they can help someone else, in striving to rise above personal tragedy to make a difference. For me, Faces of Courage really does put a new perspective on what it means to be brave, though for women like Johnson-Speight and Clark, one gets the sense that they are simply doing what they have to do by being a voice for change.

- Naila Francis
Click here for more of Naila's posts.

There is No Love, Perplexingly and Unquestionably, Like a Father's Love

Perhaps it is because my father recently underwent triple-bypass surgery, the latest in a long line of major health challenges in the last few years, that this video by Peter Gabriel touched me so deeply.



The song Father, Son speaks beautifully to the relationship between the two, an emotional connection, bound even more in this case, by the physical closeness they shared during their partner yoga exercises. I was struck by the vulnerability of the lyrics and the obviously profound appreciation Gabriel has for such a bond, especially in a society that tends to neglect or at least undervalue a father's contribution to his children compared to all the praise and adoration heaped on mothers. I'm not saying moms don't deserve it (mine certainly does!) but I'm reminded of the disparity every time I go to a card shop to search for a card for my dad and see how paltry of a selection I'm offered.

My dad and I haven't had the greatest of relationships. In fact, it's been challenging and even occasionally tumultuous for most of my life. But something about the image Gabriel paints, father and son locked spine against spine in a yoga pose that eventually softens, each painful posture holding within it the seeds of release, spoke to me not just of my struggles with my dad; it reminded me of the love that has always been present and the healing that has taken place between us in the face of his fragile health.