Do I live, love, and express as radically as I profess to? As I am called to? As I know I am meant to?
It is an ongoing inquiry that is far more a process than it is an answer.
I began writing this blog (in this form) in February of 2008. I was in the final months of a much needed and intensely revealing sabbatical. I previously had answered an inner call to cease leading an interfaith community that I had co-founded several years earlier. It was my passion and my sole source of income. I was taking a walk one beautiful morning when an inner voice clearly, unmistakably, and unequivocally told me it was time to stop doing what I had been doing. I was startled, baffled, and more than a bit frightened. And all of those feelings did not deter me from moving with thed guidance.
I stopped.
For me that was radical faith.
It made no earthly sense at all. There was no drama and no problems in my community. It was relatively small in numbers, yet it was vast in love and solvent in supply. And I knew that I knew the guidance was clear. It was as clear as was the guidance to begin the venture. As ancient wisdom teaches, for everything there is a season. The season began. And the season was ending.
After an extended period of sabbatical, it was clear that my heart and intuition were leading me to work independently at my vocation. I guest spoke at various spiritual communities. I did spiritual counseling, coaching, and direction. I wrote. I to this day do not know how I was able to support myself. It was a “loaves-fishes” dynamic that I do not feel the need to figure out. I always had what I needed when I needed it.
For me that was radical provision.
I truly loved working independently. I set my schedule and worked when it felt organic. I traveled some. I intensified my practice. I felt free. I followed my guidance faithfully. The faithful guidance was my provision.
It was for me a radical way to live and to serve.
It was not without its challenges. Lifelong patterns came into starker clarity. I have never had a confident personality. Early wounding and trauma could throw me into radical recoil which then blocked my intended radical expression. It was a dance for sure. And not always graceful. And yet in a different usage of the word it was always Graced. By grace the wounding could slow me down, yet it never stopped me. I felt an intense need to put my gifts out there, even though I knew that when I did, they would be evaluated and judged. Another lifelong pattern. People have always felt free to critique, define, and judge me. With my imprinting the last thing I would think I would do would be to pick expressions that set me up for scrutiny. And yet that is what I have done for decades.
For me that was radical courage.
So, since 2008 I have written a blog called Radical Expression. I have never really promoted it, and to say I have a modest following is generous. I know that I am not a great writer, yet that has never been my goal. I write about my experiences in hopes that my honest if imperfect meanderings might touch another heart. I have always placed authenticity above messages that I think will fit in. I write in much the same way that I lecture. I am not interested or governed by what I suspect people want to hear. I write and lecture about what I intuit people NEED to hear.
When I have really put myself out there, I often am met with a quick and cold feeling “unsubscribe.” I wince. I feel it in my gut and heart. I watch the commentary that says, “I will never write again.” I have sometimes taken breaks while I attend to my hurting heart. And then I feel and heed the impulse to write again. I sense an uncharacteristic bravery that risks expressing in the face of impending criticism. I trust the guidance. I trust I can sustain the minimizing commentary. I trust that I can become more when others seek to make me feel less. I have learned that often the more honest and candid I am the less popular the missives. I do not write to be popular. I write to be real.
For me that is radical trust.
When I stopped leading my interfaith community, I knew it was a critical demarcation. When I started working and writing independently, I know I was at another demarcation. When I stopped working independently to lead a Unity community, I know it was yet another Rubicon along my way. I made no attempt to figure it out or run it through my personal preferences. I said yes when my personality-self wanted to scream no! I knew and trusted it was the next right expression for me to give way to.
For me that was and is radical acceptance.
And as I rapidly approach a milestone birthday something radical is stirring within me. It is yet to be a definite direction. I am leaning into the stirring. I am embracing the impulse. I am confident with the current lack of clarity. I am surfing the waves of faithfulness, provision, service, courage, trust, acceptance. I know that when it is time to make a move, I will know it. I know that I will operate from faith even if there is fear. I will trust the orchestration that flows freely from a wholehearted yes.
Truth be told, I feel as if my most radical expression is yet to be. Blog or not, my greatest gift is yet to be given. Criticism or not, I will continue to stand up, stand out, and in my own unique and imperfect way radically express.
Radical expression?
Radical expression!
