REFLECTIONS OF A WOMAN’S HEART: A JOURNEY

Reflections of a practitioner: purely a journey of the heart.

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Other parts, to my mind, differ remarkably from recollection to recollection. A journey of women. Bringing new learnings from new experiences At some point the discussion shifted to interfaith dialogue: Although we were talking as three friends, we also spoke as partners and collaborators: This collaboration was essential to the nurturing and guiding of the Journey, and suggests new models of partnership. But that is a discussion in itself, and must be left for another day. But I'm already skipping ahead 1 Many Mansions: Putting ourselves in touch with people who could make recommendations about participants, or might themselves consider taking part, stretched existing networks and catalyzed the building of new ones.

The process demanded creativity, time and energy. Limits and Boxes It was at this stage, too, that a few crucial issues began to emerge. We began to name and sometimes agonize over limits. For example, realizing that translated speech among the travelling team would to some degree inhibit reflections within the group, we decided to see that a common language was possible among the circle of nine. English was the obvious choice given the two countries involved. On the Indian side, however, this meant eliminating from our selection process the majority of the country's women, including more than ninety percent of the Adivasi or Native women, as well as most of the poor.

The travelling team became very conscious of these absences at various points as we reflected on women's lives, struggles and choices. Not once, but twice within a span of eight months. One issue which quickly sprang to life was the question of "the boxes". A Sikh woman in Canada wanted to know whether a Sikh could be considered for selection. Better to stick to the categories we first identified, Bruce and I finally agreed. But the question of identity wouldn't go away. Reviewing candidates for the Indian team, a small group of us considered how well certain women reflected the "Hindu" tradition.

We were consciously striving for diversity: We quickly realized the absurdity of such thinking. People's lives, thoughts and relationships were so much more complex than a singular descriptive. But still, it was hard to let it go, given the terms of reference for the Journey. Considering a particular Christian candidate, I paused to wonder whether her embracing of Hindu ways of thought she herself admitting to being more at home in Hinduism than in Christianity made her somehow The search for the Hindu, the Muslim, the Christian, the Native or a Hindu a Muslim, a Christian, a Native was a search for someone who fit "the box", the category, the definitions.

As the Journey progressed, the circle of nine came back to this issue again and again. In different ways, in different contexts, in different learnings. But the sense of boundaries which constrained, particularly those of religion, remained. And as we struggled I couldn't help but reflect that in four decades of dialogue meetings organized mostly by men, no one had spent time questioning, challenging, or expressing their discomfort with the founding categories themselves; most accepted them as the very entry point of interfaith dialogue.

It was here that I began to catch a glimpse of the new insights women would bring through their very ways of being and knowing and doing. The question of lines remained, for me, unresolved. If part of what women bring to life is the flow, the space, the "messiness" of actual existence, there is, some of us felt, a place for lines too. Some of us wanted no boundaries, no boxes. Some wanted boxes with holes or doors or windows. Or lower walls which curved or you could step over. Most of us felt comfortable with the flow which takes place despite lines and boundaries.

This was not a rejection of categories, the striving for vague or fuzzy commonality. When we parted at the end of the final leg of the Journey, I did not sense a lessening of the group's commitments to or identity with the traditions which had helped to shape their individual lives. For some, perhaps, there was a broader vision of what their tradition could be. More visible was an increased understanding and respect for the paths which informed the lives of the women we now called "sisters".

A respect born of relationship. The outcome is often greater understanding--but little sustaining bond. In the Women's Journey, particularly among the travelling team, but also among the larger circle of women meeting for the two "Women's Interfaith Weekends" which concluded the Indian and the Canadian trips, I saw something more. I saw people transformed. Myra, coming from the Cree tradition, put it best which she tried to explain her own reactions when an invited guest subtly derided Christians and Muslims.

Those are my sisters, I know them. It meant cups of tea and eating in hotels. It meant staying with families, one-on-one chats, site seeing, introducing ourselves and being introduced, singing, crying, laughing, dancing, despairing and living in hope. It meant meeting people from different walks of life different perspectives. It meant gift giving and receiving, jet lag and struggling through problems, cooking together or NOT cooking together, sharing late nights, touching a glacier, smelling the earth.

Reflections on the Women's Interfaith Journey | Diane D'Souza - www.farmersmarketmusic.com

More than anything, though, I believe it meant listening to and telling stories. The stories of our lives. The stories of people we met. The stories of people no longer walking the earth. One of the keenest differences between interfaith dialogue as I have observed it conducted by men and as I saw women shape it in this Journey, was the importance of the story. Again and again we told, heard and gathered information from personal stories and accounts.

It was for us a major source of learning and connection.

Sometime after the India leg of our travelling was completed, I reflected on how I had changed; how I did things differently. One of the things I realized was that I was using the stories of women and men whom I had met to encourage others.

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In the course of interacting with many groups in India who work to improve the lives of marginalized people, particularly women, we met more than a few remarkable individuals. Some of the women working for Action India in the slums of Delhi, glow with strength as they speak of their collective power to address to grievances as a respected arbitrating body. The tribal women's collective, whom we met on a hill outside of Udaipur, have saved their land, fought for their way of life, and recovered their means of livelihood.

They heard Myra's story of the history of Canada's First Nation's people and grew angry at the injustice. They received her pain and offered Myra and her people their example and their strength.

I told stories like these, again and again to partners, to friends, to women living in Old City neighbourhood in Hyderabad where Henry Martyn Institute works to help Hindus and Muslims build bridges of trust. They are stories which gave me strength, and I use them to them to help give strength to others. But there's more to this than just stories. The underlying issue is one of connectedness, of relationship. We did not start with theologies or dogmas, prescriptive or normative definitions, scriptures or holy structures.

Reflections of a Woman's Heart: A Journey

We did not visit temples and mosques, churches and synagogues-at least not in the beginning. Our starting point was our lives: The struggles, the joys, the things which bring us to anger, to despair, to commitment, to laughter-these were central. Binding all together was a sense of connectedness: Perhaps, being women, we had experienced what it felt to be voiceless, and so were sensitive to others who struggled to be heard.

Perhaps as women our urge to protect and nurture echoes deep. We confronted the horrifying fact that for every thousand Indian women, sixty-three never reach maturity because being a girl puts their lives at risk. We met young women being encouraged to be leaders, and men who chose to stand on the margins. Sharing letters she wrote to family members and friends after the death of her husband, Edwards allows readers to eavesdrop on her most intimate thoughts, fears, regrets, and realizations about surviving heartbreak and adjusting to life on her own.

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She invites as many laughs as tears in disclosing personal revelations about grief, growth, and divine guidance. Every woman will find a piece of her life here as she travels toward wholeness. It brought me to smiles and it brought me to tears. Most of all, it brought me to the truth of how real people live real life.

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I cannot remember being so moved. This book is a wonderful gift, and your life will be enriched by reading it. Don't pass this by. If peering into the soul of another is a conversation with God--and it is--that is what you are about to have here. You will not soon forget what has been revealed to you.

It is written from the heart. Judith Orloff's Guide to Intuitive Healing" ""Reflections from a Woman Alone "is a heroic account of a single woman's pursuit of self-love and dignity in a male-identified world. It is refreshingly candid, often hilarious, and definitely true. It is a must for all women, no matter their age or relationship status. Hardcover , pages. A Lighthearted Look at a Journey toward Wholeness. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up.

To ask other readers questions about Reflections from a Woman Alone , please sign up. To get the free app, enter your mobile phone number. Would you like to tell us about a lower price? Do not worry about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. How blessed are humans to connect directly with God through daily prayer? Lee Haugen Long embraced this blessing throughout her life. She wrote her prayers daily, an exercise that helped her stay focused on God and off her to-do list.

When she didn't feel inspired to write her own prayers, she turned to prayer books for women. While journaling her daily prayers one morning, Lee found herself writing general prayers instead of prayers specific to her life. Over the course of many months, these prayers kept arriving in her daily writing.

Lee realized they were a gift from God, a gift to share with you as this book of prayers for women. As you muddle through your day-to-day life, God is always with you, even during the monotony of the , the housework, the temper tantrums, the rainy days.

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Learn to seek God in the mundane. Remember to thank God for the daily blessings of food on the table and a roof over your head. If your daily prayers lack focus, reading through this prayer book will help you concentrate on your relationship with God. If you don't connect with flowery or extravagant language, the simplicity and honesty of these prayers will speak straight to your heart.

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