Yowza is tonight a time to sing my beautiful grief into the rafters . The image comes from Toko-Pa Turner, who spoke to me in a writing circle agenda quote this evening: “There is a wild woman under our skin who wants nothing more than to dance until her feet are sore, sing her beautiful grief into the rafters, and offer the bottomless cup of her creativity as a way of life.” Tonight was such a time for me, for the weary wild-woman under my own skin, I guess. I arrived into Birmingham Alabama Sunday late afternoon, to meet up with two Doctor of Ministry cohorts and two Masters students. Beloved Community pilgrimage here in the Fertile Crescent of civil rights, as one of our co-leaders, Dr. C. Anthony Hunt , names it. I myself have a problematic less poetic relationship with the South. I’ve avoided it most of my life. Disdained it. Judged it. Been embarrassed by it. Married to a Minnesotan whose prejudice against Southern whites is way worse than my own, we never had any reason to...
...in a listening project into stories (others' and/or my own) not held deeply or heard thoroughly in the institutions and culture(s) we've created. A place to explore hope, healing, love without reciprocity...transforming culture by surrendering into Hope and Belonging here, now, this moment...
