Welcome New Year. And hello, friends and new readers. As always, thanks for ’stopping by’. I am excited to announce my launch of two new blogs for Sweetgrass Ceremonies. Lately I’ve reflected upon my ideal clients and what YOU may want to read. I’ve also looked at my compilation of work as a Life-Cycle Celebrant® heartcrafting, leading and guiding ceremonies. With this review emerged my inspiration for these NEW blogs:

Love – Weddings – Unions

&

Celebrations of Life – Memorials – Home Funerals

By posting in these areas of focus, I aspire to bring you relevant resources and fresh awareness about timely topics in your lives. I write with genuine enthusiasm for pausing to celebrate life passages through ceremony. I offer you glimpses of the work I do with individuals, couples, families and communities. I also bring you resources for finding your own way into meaningful ceremony.

In this new year I strive to increase our dialogue (nudge-nudge: please follow and comment!), expand awareness and elevate creativity when it comes to celebrating LIFE — from birth to death — and all the messy, lovely, funny and tough moments in between.

Thank You for coming into the conversation!

Kristine

When I lead ceremonies, (especially smaller, more intimate and emotionally expressive kinds) holding space is often my most foundational function. During larger scale celebrations with 150+ people, I also hold space for the couple, individual or family being honored. Within this spectrum of the quietly intimate to larger forum, I feel very solid and attuned in this active role.

Thanks to recent nudges from a dear sister in our Tucson Threshold Choir, I’m offering my explanation as food for thought. (And I’d love to develop a dialogue in the comments below!) As I see it, this is a juicy subject with relevance for all of us in our daily living.

Based on the sum of my experiences in this moment, holding space for others involves enacting a few key behaviors:

• Authentic Listening. Tuning in beyond verbal exchange with unadorned curiosity, we open ourselves to receiving information from non-verbal cues, the greater setting or context and the frequency of energy people bring into the space.
• Pure Presence. Coming into the space feeling centered and checking ego at the door, we suspend judgment – yet allow room for creative discernment – so we may open the possibilities for authentic expression or movement to occur.
• Wholeheartedness. Seeing the expanse of what is possible, we enter into the experience unafraid of unknowable emotions that may well up. We are there for the wholeness of the experience - the funny, sad, beautiful, ironic, strange, irreverent, loving – you name it.
• Embracing Silence. Understanding that brief clarifying questions  followed by simple pauses and even long stretches of ‘wordlessness’ may be the most productive use of time for everyone present.

Here are words from a courageous women with whom I just worked to co-create a personal ceremony during a transition in her life. She illustrates how I actively held space for her:

“Kristine is a gifted, sensitive, very real (not woo woo) spiritual facilitator. She so skillfully weaves together symbols, and elements from rituals derived from many different eastern, western and southwestern cultures and traditions to co-create a very personal and intimate ceremony.  She quieted her ego to allow my story to emerge and unfold. She listened and was ever present, so as to be able to interject subtle questions or thoughtful comments to encourage the healing to flow through the foggy and rough patches.”

As you’ve read this, I imagine you’re recalling the times you’ve held space for others, without even knowing it perhaps! And now, you have a few expansive ideas for the next opportunity that awaits you.

Do let me know how it goes!

Kristine

The deceased may have departed some time ago; weeks or even months have passed. With the passage of time, the rawness of loss seems less harsh, as compared to a funeral near the time of death. Yet grief may surface unexpectedly, too. It is this upwelling – of painful loss felt in a public space – that I think people may fear. There is a sense of vulnerability that coincides. And so often as a result in our culture, no ceremony is held to acknowledge, let alone truly celebrate the life lived.

So why then, hold a Celebration of Life? Based on my experiences leading, supporting and witnessing families and communities through these events, here is my take:

• Guests mingle in a comfortable place, to help each other carry what is too big to carry alone. Holding a hand, sharing a story, looking into eyes full of tears, offering to help with end-of-life ‘chores’, embracing – within a relaxed or familiar setting – all of these exchanges help to ease the burden of loss. (Likely venues I’ve seen include parks, HOA clubhouses, favorite family restaurants, homes, or boutique resorts that hold meaning somehow.)

• Everyone present has a collective moment to recognize what it meant for the deceased to live. This is inextricably linked to having a ceremony or ritual portion of the Celebration. What I usually suggest is a brief ‘program’ piece during the gathering, where I help people pause and reflect upon the honoree. (It might just involve a standing ovation!) The collective power of those moments tap into something bigger than all of us combined.

• It supports and reminds the mourners that life is full of connection, despite their loss. Yes, it is a fragile or vulnerable time. And yet, there is always one or more stories that yield knowing smiles, nodding heads and even great waterfalls of laughter. The delight in knowing connections live on and might even expand post-death is a great consolation. A great healing.

These are just a few ideas among MANY reasons why holding a Celebration of Life is plain good and worthwhile. Do you have more to contribute? If so, please do!

Kristine

This week I tried the nifty ‘Question’ feature on my Sweetgrass Facebook page. I asked what the phrase ‘personalized ceremony’ means to friends. I was hoping they’d help me dig a little deeper. (And I’ve now found my favorite FB feature!) So far I’ve heard back with an honest and fabulous range of thoughts:

“For me, words are not enough to make something personalized. Honestly, I don’t find that human vocabulary can truly bring something to the realm of touching or personal. I find that seeing the emotions/faces/gestures of my close friends and family truly make any experience personal.” ~ Ashley

“My (our) story, beliefs, values, culture and aspirations are reflected throughout the whole ceremony.” ~ Monica

“Created with heart – with and for me – with understanding of my story.” ~ So far, this captures the winning number of votes!

I find this pleasantly revealing, because I’ve been leaning toward the phrase ‘heart-crafted’ to describe my ceremonies more clearly. Why? Well, personalized makes me cringe a wee bit. I’ve employed it before and not felt quite right with it. The ceremonies I co-create with people are more than personalized, more than custom-tailored; more than these familiar adjectives, because my ceremonies genuinely arise from my heart. Whether a Baby Blessing, Wedding or Memorial – it is a real, relevant and meaningful experience for my clients and their guests.

The way I imagine, compose and lead a ceremony reflects my lifetime of curiosity, observations, reading, listening and emotional learning . . .all of which somehow mixes in a magical alchemy with the stories of the unique people I serve.

So for now at least, I’ll be heart-crafting ceremonies in the Old Pueblo.

Always in Gratitude,

Kristine

Sometimes I see furrowed brows for a few moments. That is okay. Once in awhile folks truly hear what I do – only by asking what I don’t do. “So you’re not ______? Or ______?” “No,” I patiently say. It takes awhile until we reach their ‘aha’ moment.

After a recent flurry of these defining conversations, I am moved to post more here. I’ll describe what a Life-Cycle Celebrant® is and is not, plus tell some stories to give historical perspective.

Most notably, we are part of a world-wide movement that is more than 3,000 people strong. We create and lead custom ceremonies for individuals, communities and organizations that transcend the ordinary. We hold ceremonial space for occasions from ‘womb to tomb’. We come with no judgments. We base our work on the stories, beliefs and values of people we serve.

Here is the thumbnail version of the movement: Civil Celebrancy began in Australia, during the early 1970s. It was initiated by the government, offering people flexibility for holding meaningful ceremonies. Civil Celebrants in Australia ‘marry or bury’ people in settings outside of the church or government registry offices, while still upholding the Laws of the Commonwealth. Today, the majority of weddings and funerals in Australia are composed and led by Civil Celebrants.

Now leap from AU in the 70’s to the U.S. in 2001. A core group of women in New York and New Jersey witnessed a yawning chasm in our culture, days after September 11th. They saw, felt and heard community yearnings for ritual or ceremonial ways to acknowledge heaving losses. They saw how people not associated with a church or government body needed to gather and make meaning somehow. So, they enacted multi-generational, multi-faith or non-faith, inclusive and relevant ceremonies.  For example, they led memorials at train stations in NJ. Such locations were silent reminders of loss, where cars parked by people who would never return sat eerily empty.

After experiencing these post 9/11 scenarios, this core group began investigating the work of our Civil Celebrant friends in Australia. They gleaned lessons from the Aussies and brought pieces of the model to North America. Through a true labor of love and enlightenment, they founded the Celebrant Foundation & Institute in 2001: where I was certified as a Life-Cycle Celebrant® and where I currently teach Funeral Celebrancy. The Institute offers specific training in the art of co-creating rituals and ceremonies for all of life’s milestones. Upon successful completion, students are certified to provide the utmost professionalism and quality services, and agree to perform those under a Code of Ethics.

And well, if it helps to round out this explanation by saying what I am not (yet some other Life-Cycle Celebrants may well be!), then I offer this brief list. I am not celibate. I am not an attorney or event planner; a judge, county clerk, funeral director, counselor, chaplain, pastor or life coach. (Cue to unfurrow the brow.)

As a full-time practicing Celebrant, I am a highly attuned ceremonial guide. I meet you where you are in your life experience. I work with you and/or your animal companions. I help you celebrate and acknowledge new life, love and loss – in a way that feels real for you.

And I am grateful to serve with compassion, humor and joy!

Kristine

The Center is an ingenious, inviting and resource-rich extension of a church community. The bottom line of its mission: balance and wellness for mind/body/spirit. My friend and colleague Marilyn Rampley invited me to assist her open-minded and engaging community in celebrating the Center’s opening. I was honored to participate! I met amazing folks. We shared a fun time imbued with meaning and joy.  Here is a peek into the happenings:

Making Noise in the Opening Circle!

First, attendees participated in an opening circle, with music making to energize and open up the group. Annie Loyd, founder of the Fusion Foundation, led the drumming. I love the upward shift of energy that occurs within a group when movement and music happens!

After opening words and prayers to call in the Seven Directions, I led a call and response based on the mission of the Whole Life Center. We shared individual expressions about what the Center’s opening meant to people: healing, wellness, honoring transitions, safe space, opportunity and so on.

Then I shared a few words about how we were all present to collectively bless the opening of the center. I believe we all have the power to bless an endeavor, a place and each other. I shared a few words from John O’Donohue:

“What is a blessing? A blessing is a circle of light drawn around a person (or place) to protect, heal and strengthen. Life is a constant flow of emergence. The beauty of blessing is its belief that it can affect what unfolds. . . We could say that a blessing “forebrightens” the way. When a blessing is invoked, a window opens in eternal time.”

With these words and great excitement about the new opening, we exclaimed together: “Now we bless and open the Whole Life Center!” Then Rev. Ken Heintzelman prepared to cut the ribbon across the main entrance. Before this symbolic act, he asked everyone standing in the larger circle to put their right hand on the shoulder of the person next to them, until all were connected. That way the positive collective energy of the group really poured through him for the ribbon cutting and new beginning!

At Sweetgrass, I love to help people acknowledge a variety of transitions. A new beginning is an especially fun celebration! I’d love to hear about how you’ve celebrated one for yourself or others, too.

Blessings Always,

Kristine

Sunrise through the Cholla

And then, a jumping cholla so nicely ‘framed’ the sunrise, I had to at least try and capture her beauty! What a scene, as sunlight streamed through such an inhospitable presence. I couldn’t help but notice the metaphor: how the light shines through, even the densest and prickliest spots.

At the risk of sounding trite, this photo presents me with a ripe metaphor for what has unfolded in Tucson over the past couple of weeks. Light is shining through a very tough spot in our collective story.

Since the January 8th tragedy, countless people have worked together to support, encourage and memorialize the lives affected by the event. So many people in Tucson and from around the world embody that sunlight streaming through the cholla.

We shared in a large-scale memorial at the University of Arizona, where nearly 26,000 people, including our nation’s President, came to honor the living and the deceased. People gathered to hang Ben’s Bells throughout the city. Makeshift memorials or shrines are evolving at key places to help people grieve. Individual funerals or memorials have also occurred now, for most of the victims who died. We feel so much sadness due to lives taken before their natural courses.

I have noticed a consistent theme during this emotional roller coaster ride for our community: ceremonies do heal. Memorials – in whatever meaningful form expressed by individuals – do help the living. Even if by initiating only the tiniest steps into healing. We process grief together and find hope to step onward.  I’ve frequently heard people say how they felt uplifted by attending or watching the U of A Memorial Service last week. (I personally felt buoyed by the experience of being there, too!) Or I read/hear about friends and loved ones feeling depths of sorrow, yet comforted during and after a funeral for one of the victims.

Most miraculously, the best news is that recovering shooting victim Gabrielle Giffords stood on her own two feet yesterday and looked out her hospital window! I am sincerely hoping she can see the powerful memorial on the UMC lawn, or maybe just the silver light of the moon. And mostly, I hope she will heal.

Humbled and amazed by all of this,

Kristine

During my work guiding people through ritual or ceremony to face loss, I sit with natural or anticipated death. It feels challenging, although surprisingly gentle. I sense little duality. Pain and compassion coexist peacefully. However, violent death and suffering forces a sickening shatter, doesn’t it? Duality crashes down, with darkness and light seeming so vastly separated. It feels weighty beyond measure, edging me toward despair.

A few days after the event, I still feel heavy like concrete.  My thoughts continually go to the families of those killed, those tenuously surviving and those who witnessed the violence. I find posting about anything else this week would feel hollow. Irrelevant. A few of Jon Stewart’s words about the shooting (from his show last night) inspired me:

I refuse to give in to that feeling of despair. There is light in this situation.

YES. There is tremendous light in this situation! It is up to us to find it. I agree with him as he urges viewers: go read and learn about the goodness of people involved in this situation. There are so many “people leading good lives of dignity,” he said. Story lines will continue to unfold. We need to find those stories and pay attention.

Read about Gabrielle Giffords’s intern who ran into the attack, stopping her bleeding and keeping her breath flowing. Read about a courageous woman who charged the gunman. With her two hands, she stopped the slaughter. Read about the medical care teams who work so diligently in nursing our Congresswoman back from the brink of death.

Learn about Gabe Zimmerman, her staffer who tragically died. When we choose to readily open our hearts, remembering and honoring the good of both the living and the dead, then the light overcomes darkness. We can keep a tremendous light like Gabe’s shining.

There are countless tears to be shed. It is a time to grieve and weep. Memorial Services will occur in the coming days here in Tucson, initiating a long healing process. Somehow, I hope the families who face loss now may ultimately find solace and heal.

Amidst the tears, there is also goodness to be found. Please seek it out. We can read, listen, reflect, and meditate or pray to amplify that goodness. And last but surely not least, the words of Gabrielle Giffords’s husband give you two ideas for concretely helping right now, no matter where you live.

With a heavy heart,

Kristine

Me and Lady B (aka Bianca)

So much so, it catalyzed a theme for a Winter Solstice mini-retreat here in Tucson on December 19th. I am co-creating the sessions with Jenny Kendall of Desert Horse Yoga and my horse, Bianca. We will have more details soon, which I will post.

Why is this concept of finding beauty in impermanence so big to me?

Reasons will surely unfold over time. Here is what I have noticed since reading my Beauty edition:

Mother Nature is a most pure expression of it. Everyday when I walk out my back gate, the desert is different somehow. Something changes, always. This morning for example: I was practicing yoga facing my big southern windows, before dawn. The sun was just beginning to peek over the mountains. A pale sherbet hue was cast over my little courtyard and the natural desert beyond. I went into a low lunge, holding anjali mudra at my heart chakra. I had a soft outward gaze, with enough seeing to notice motion beyond my ocotillo fence: one coyote, another three, then one more and finally three more. A pack of eight shiny healthy coyotes, trotting along. Fleeting and oh so beautiful in the dawn’s light!

We are usually fickle about it, yet maybe we can change. Some versions of impermanence, we do view as beautiful. And then some things, we just do not.  As “This Ruined House” (a Winter 2010 Parabola article) by Joyce Kornblatt points out: we adore cherry blossoms, despite their very brief appearance in the springtime. Their symbolism in Japan even represents the fleeting nature of life. It is rare though, when a homeowner’s association in the desert lets a fallen saguaro decay in a ‘landscaped area’, despite how many homes it creates for other creatures and how beautiful the bare ribs become.

For me, out of this fickleness arises an opportunity. I love these questions Kornblatt asks: “So what might happen if we stepped more fully beyond the bounds of conventional aesthetics?” . . . What if we lived with a wilderness mind, in which change is the only constant, and the process of decay is recognized as beautiful?” In my ever so humble opinion, I think we would have a gentler, less judgmental outlook on ourselves, not to mention the whole life and death continuum.

We acknowledge impermanence during ceremonies. Mostly, when I assist and serve clients at Sweetgrass, they are acknowledging change. Change in status: leaving their family of origin to marry another. Change in home: mourning the loss of a home and/or taking up a new residence and claiming new space. Change in family: birthing or adopting a new baby. Change in health: facing an illness or recovering from one. Change in physical presence: acknowledging the loss of a loved one, whether an animal companion or human beloved. When we create rituals and ceremonies, we create beautiful space and time that recognizes the impermanent nature of life and honors how change is our constant companion.

In so doing, we hopefully create inspiring and loving impressions in our individual and collective hearts and minds. And as I write, of course I am wondering: how do you find beauty in impermanence?

With Love,

Kristine

Schoolgirls at Hiroshima Peace Museum (A/P photo by S. Kajiyama)

Ceremony helps us mark events; both the bitter and sweet occurrences in life. It helps us pause and remember. Tomorrow marks the 65th anniversary of the first atomic bomb dropping on civilization. It is surely one of our most collectively bitter events to mark as a world community. I can only imagine the solemnity in Hiroshima, when they ring the peace bell and release doves during the ceremony. I am thankful a U.S. Ambassador is attending for the first time. I am encouraged to see other nuclear powers, France and Britain attending. Mere symbolism you say? Well regardless, I believe the ceremony clearly sends messages of peace to leaders and citizens around the world.

I visited the Peace Museum in Hiroshima with a pit in my stomach and many tears. Exhibits made clear to me what utter devastation we wrought. And yet, there is attendant beauty in the walls of letters from Mayors across the world, urging peace and destruction of nuclear weapons. There is magnificent beauty in the thousands of colorful origami cranes draped over garden statues. The sense of remembrance for all the victims and survivors is viscerally palpable. Enough so, I hope, that this world does not see devastation on that scale again.

Kristine