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Roots!

5/11/2014

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the old apple tree
Going back in time, tracing family history, is fascinating for me.  My friend, Ben, is an archaeologist.  He is also a Native American whose ancestral record on this continent can be found in oral tradition and stone circles, burial mounds and petroglyphs; records more than 10,000 years old.  Years ago when I asked Ben why he does this work, he replied, “When our children know where they came from, they know who they are.”

My family lineage can be known through the stories we repeat, through written records and research that my parents compiled, and through newspaper clippings announcing births, baptisms, marriages and burials. These clippings are kept between the covers of our old German Bible.  My brothers and I are the fifth generation of German Lutheran immigrants who came to the USA in the 1700’s.  Such a short space of time in contrast to Ben’s knowing that reaches so far back before words were scribed on paper.

A few years ago, curious to know more, I began to push further and further back into historic records starting with the names of towns and geographic areas where my relatives lived.  I found stories of wars and conquering heroes, the exodus of peoples, the building of new communities.  All are historic facts but still do not give the kind of knowing that Ben has.

I pushed further, not sure what I was looking for, yet sensing that I had not found some essential pieces of me. My friend, Lois, librarian in Deming WA, encouraged my search and pointed me to amazing resources.  I discovered that on the very ground that my German Lutheran relatives inhabited, Druid communities flourished as recently as 1,000 B.C.! The people were healers, mid-wives, medicine people, honoring the cycles of nature, passing their knowledge on to their children.  When Judeo-Christian communities expanded into these regions, Druids, Jews and Christians co-habited side by side.

At last, I had found my missing parts! Christianity, while being centuries old, is still relatively young in the history of time. Many Christian practices, ways to worship, and dates of significant events trace their origins to earlier peoples and beliefs. Some of my wonderings have always been about those who came before Jews and Christians and why I feel so close to God in nature.  Like me, perhaps some of you have also wondered. Imagine my surprise to read that Martin Luther himself said, “we find God in nature!” He, indeed, experienced a transformation in nature, as did St. Francis, Saul/Paul, Moses and Abraham.  We are all kin to our pagan relatives with their reverence for rocks and trees and water, their celebration of sun and moon and stars, their appreciation of all living creatures. 

We, from the very beginnings of “we” are sacred creations of God, made of the same substance as our earth, our solar system, our universe.  We are Star People, children of our Mother Earth and Father Sky, offspring of the Universe and of Love.  Today is Mother’s Day.  I am thankful for my children and grandchildren who carry our particular story into the future.  I’m grateful for my parents who gave me strong roots and restless curiosity.  I so appreciate the Grace of my inheritance and the friends and relatives who help me to know who I am.  And today on Mother’s Day, I’m happy to celebrate the day by acknowledging that “I’m as old as dirt!”

                                       o      o      o      o      o      o      o      o      o
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integration

5/2/2014

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Happy Spring! 

These spring days are fairly dancing with color and fragrance, bird song, and warm breezes.  Friends and relatives and neighbors are waking up, shedding layers of clothes and old habits. All my neighbors are raking and pulling weeds, bringing out the lawn furniture, walking dogs and pushing babies in strollers, rollerblading and riding bicycles. The playground at the park is full with moms and dads and children of all ages. Spring is my favorite season.  It’s good to get moving, to be in the sun, to notice new life all around.

This spring I am particularly aware of changes in the lives of friends, family and in my own life. Change is constant, of course, but frequently we notice that a change has occurred after it happens.  When we pay more attention, we often can feel the changes as we are experiencing them.  We may feel restless, confused, disoriented or even as if we don't know who we are or where we belong. We may not know how the world will look on the other side of these changing times, but we may become willing to stick with it all to find out rather than resist the unknown.  Best of all is when we are able to stay in the moment, ride the wave, and land on the distant shore with curiosity and enthusiasm, shedding our old habits of fear and worry.  Allowing new life to come into full bloom.

What are you noticing about change in your life and the lives of those you love?  May your springtime of new life unfold gently and with grace.


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Promises

4/15/2014

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Major themes are playing in your local area this week.  Themes of endings and beginnings, of death and resurrection.  It is holy week on the calendar of the Christian church. The week begins with celebration followed by suffering and death, followed by celebration.  A lifetime is played out in this one week.

In the world around us, an extreme and difficult winter buried many locations across the globe these past months, in a lifeless sleep that now is breaking. The most tender and delicate of spring flowers, arrayed in white, pale blue or yellow appear to challenge death’s finality, to renew our hope in beauty and life. Birds return, call to one another and, two by two, carry bits of grass and debris high into naked limbs, creating welcoming places for tiny hatchlings soon to arrive.  Life renews itself again, as we expect it always will.  Holy Week this year comes just now with the ending of this bitter winter and the rebirth of spring.

On Palm Sunday, the first day of Holy Week, Jesus entered Jerusalem surrounded by cheering throngs of admirers who were honoring and celebrating him and their hopes for his future and their own.  Though not visible to the crowds, his heart was heavy. Within a few days he was abandoned by all.  He was seemingly defeated, dejected, a bright star, fallen. On Good Friday, he willingly gave up his life. Three days later, as promised, he emerged from the tomb victorious, transformed, alive!

Our lives, too, are often full with times of victories and celebrations.  We may be surrounded by loving family and friends, may have excellent health, the ideal job – or fantastic retirement, doors of welcome and opportunity may spring open to us.  When changes occur in the lives we plan and live out, we may feel disappointment, anger, sorrow, uncertainty, confusion. Our “holy week” arrives with paradox; with celebration of life and the surety of death.  Oftentimes we find we must let go of what was in order to have what is yet to be.  We know the promise of transformation and new life coming after our many deaths.  Goodness does return along with strength and confidence.  Willingly, we let die what must so that we may, once again, choose life. We may not fully know what will be next.  We do know that winter ends, spring returns, fragile and beautiful; it matures and deepens into another bountiful harvest.  This is an eternal promise.

Leonard Cohen created a haunting musical arrangement of F. R. Scott’s poem “Villanelle for Our Time.” Cohen extracts and emphasizes these lines:

                                         this is the faith from which we start
                                         from bitter searching of the heart
                                         we rise to play a greater part….

May your Holy Weeks be blessed!

                                                  O      O      O      O      O      O      O      O

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being useful

3/15/2014

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I’m calling it the groundhog day syndrome.  Pop your head outside some time in March ( the official groundhog does it in February, silly fellow! ) and if everything round about is not shouting, "SUMMER!!!," then go back to sleep.  Hibernate.  Retreat.  Forget it for an undetermined length of time.  Part of the groundhog day syndrome is that our behavior becomes as schizophrenic as the weather.  We have two days of jubilant celebration of the rites of spring followed by three days of grumbling while we shovel snow – again. Our high expectations are dashed to the ground and we crumble.  Crawling back into the cave for another snooze seems to be the only action that appeals.  That’s a full blown case of the groundhog syndrome.  That was me a couple of weeks ago.

Take a few special phone calls, blend them with a handful of emails, season with a random quote or a delicious idea and you have the antidote for the groundhog experience.  Voila! Everything takes a turn and looks more inviting.  There is hope for each and every grumpy groundhog!  The novel I just finished reading was a turning point, a catalyst for moving my groundhog back into life.  The narrator is a father in his 60’s writing to his only child, a 7 year old boy born years past the time when the father ever expected he would have a child. The father is a minister and the son and grandson of ministers. He is dying. He writes all the things that he expected to be saying to his son as they grew older together.  Marilynne Robinson is the author of “Gilead”, a book filled with memorable quotes.  This paragraph, toward the end of the story touched me deeply and changed my thinking about hibernating. 

“Theologians talk about a prevenient grace that precedes grace itself and allows us to accept it.  I think there must also be a prevenient courage that allows us to be brave – that is, to acknowledge that there is more beauty than our eyes can bear, that precious things have been put into our hands and to do nothing to honor them is to do great harm.  And therefore, this courage allows us, as the old men said, to make ourselves useful.  It allows us to be generous, which is another way of saying exactly the same thing.  But that is the pulpit speaking. What have I to leave you but the ruins of old courage, and the love of old gallantry and hope? Well, as I have said, it is all an ember now. And the good Lord will surely someday breathe it into flame again. . . . .  . I will pray that you find a way to be useful.  I will pray.  And then I will sleep.”

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pausing to reflect

3/9/2014

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what's next ?
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pause to reflect. . . . . .  

I’ve truly enjoyed taking photographs and matching them to reflections and poems. I’ve learned a lot about inner and outer landscapes and their influence, one upon the other. I love telling stories. For me, they are freeze-frames of our ordinary days that connect us to one another.  They take the personal into the universal, to our shared knowing and understanding.  I wasn’t consciously aware of all this when I began my website more than three years ago.  Nor did I know I would have much to share for this long a time period. The discipline of writing, of tuning in to whatever is percolating in the moment, has opened me to other dimensions of humanness. 

Most often it feels as if my writing has a plan of its own that I may be privy to only after the piece is complete.  It feels guided and inspired by a spirit who knows more than I do and who is determined to get thoughts and insights on paper.  The words arrange themselves, effortlessly, to reveal messages that have been coming forth from a vague imaginal world to the world of physicality; a place felt but difficult to articulate. Rarely do I edit or change any of it.  I believe that this is what is intended even when I may not fully grasp the meaning of the message or the timing.

Perhaps at times my writing has revealed too much; at other times it may have been trite or superficial; too preachy or too far out. Sometimes it may be just confusing drivel. Sometimes it seems arrogant to think I have anything at all worth sharing.  I write when the muse moves me, sometimes that means every day for hours, other times I’m dry as dust and the muse is in hiding.  I trust that words will be given me when it is the right time.  And that’s what I have shared on my website.  I’ve had no overt intention to preach or convert or condemn anyone, but maybe the teacher in me, or the mom, takes over now and then.  I don’t know.  I do know that I feel immersed in our shared humanness when I’m able to express my perspective, looking through my window of experience.  And I love hearing your comments and your expressions of your life story. 


taking a break . . . .

I’ve returned home to South Dakota. I feel my connection to place – this place – more deeply than ever. It is a significant relationship, demanding my attention, asking me to listen, to allow for more spaciousness and silence, to receive that which is waiting to reveal itself.

In returning home to place, I also have returned home to people.  Many I’ve known for most of my adult life; others for not so long. They are all of equal value to me.  We have shared history. We’ve been part of one another’s joy and pain, major transitions, celebrations and sorrows.  We know the meanings of our experience without having to explain how the past fits into the present and why it makes sense.  My personal story has been supported and cherished and woven together by loving hands of dear friends.  These human relationships are precious.  I am feeling called to give spaciousness and silence here, too.  To reflect with new eyes and an open heart, to be grateful, to be kind, to be attentive.

My website will remain on line but it will be hibernating.  From time to time I may have a few words to share.  I don’t know.  I hope you will check in now and then and share with me your stirrings and activities.  Your life is an inspiration to me.  May you know how blessed you are and may you be a blessing to others . . . .


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february thaw

2/16/2014

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Early last week I had a really good reflection to share with you; a perfect message for Valentine’s Week. It was all about love using the analogy of finding my new home, falling in love with it, making a commitment to it with all of its sweetness and its issues.  Then last week took on its own design so that entering cyberspace moved from the top of my “to do” list to my “later” list.  Today it moved to the way back burner and I don’t know if it will come forward as written; maybe it will take shape another time.

Usually I begin each morning sipping a steamy cup of coffee, maybe reading something inspiring, maybe writing, often just sitting in quietness.  This morning Sophie snoozes by my feet.  Deep rose, pink and yellow brilliance stream across the clear blue eastern sky and straight into my windows.  Chimes sound from the church a block away. I check emails and today I’m drawn into deep contemplation by a small quote and the related article, “Tapped on the Shoulder by a Whale.” Dailygood.org is the site for good news and inspiration and today’s interview with Bryant Austin, photographer, was truly transformative.  I don’t know just where this interview will take me as it settles and finds a home within; it feels significant.  I’ll stay with it and leave you now with the just the quote that introduced the interview:


              “Somewhere, something incredible, is waiting to be known.”      - Carl Sagan


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string theory, intuition, and sacred geometry . . .

2/5/2014

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My friend who lives in northern Minnesota called that night close to midnight. Those were the days before caller ID, cell phones and texting.  Yet, I knew before I picked up the receiver, that it was she who was calling.  Her greeting was hurried and anxious, “What’s going on? I was at my sister’s birthday party and had to leave to come home and call you.  I couldn’t wait any longer.  What’s happened?”  A thousand miles between us, we hadn’t talked in weeks.  How did she know how sick my daughter was, how frightened I was? Last week, feeling the same urgency, I called her.  The night before, she came home late after spending most of the day in the emergency room. Earlier that morning she fainted and could hardly breathe.  I had to call her, but how did I know?

Krista Tippett hosts “on being” every week on public radio stations. It airs here on Sunday mornings at 8 am.  You can check out the website www.onbeing.org to listen, view or download current and archived interviews she conducts with physicists, mathematicians, theologians, poets, novelists, artists; great thinkers from seemingly disparate disciplines.  Her purpose is to explore the interface between science and religion.  A few weeks ago, novelist Marilyn Robinson (author of Gilead, and Absence of Mind) and astrophysicist with poetic leanings, Marcelo Gleiser (author of A Tear at the Edge of Creation and The Dancing Universe) conversed about the origins of everything, creation stories, evolution, the “god of the gap,” scientific proof of the existence of god/love/energy, and the ways religious thought constantly expands to encompass scientific discoveries.  This past Sunday the conversation with Brian Greene, physicist and mathematician, crackled with excitement and I longed for a more informed understanding of science and math.  Krista and Brian ranged from the nature of reality to the Higgs field, string theory, limited vs. organic views of God, quantum mechanics, and god and the universe as holographic blueprints.  I recalled my excitement in the mid-1980’s as I learned about acupressure and shiatsu, quantum physics, non-local reality and serendipity.  My brain seized upon applying that knowledge to my work with clients and to exploring the implications for vibrational healing, intuitive knowing and synchronicity. A few years later I was introduced to sacred geometry and the mathematical resonance of disease processes. My scientific curiosity was piqued and my religious understanding expanded.

Today’s science proves that everything is energy, that mathematical equations orchestrate life, that we are not separate from each other and from all of creation – past present and future.  Jesus taught “I and my Father are one” and we understand that we, too, are one with God, the life force energy that is neither created nor destroyed.  The Yellow Emperor taught the same principles more than 5000 years ago, the Tao Te Ching gives us the same teachings and today’s herbalists extract the healing power of living plants for our medicines. Today when I send Reiki (universal life force) energy to clients at a distance or just across the room, when you know who is calling as the phone rings, when we intuitively take that other road instead of the usual one thus escaping a fatal accident, we directly experience the action of quantum physics, of vibrational medicine, of spiritual oneness.  It’s not woo woo, weird, new age stuff.  It’s ancient, it’s real, it’s now and it’s mathematically provable and predictable. Heady stuff and very thrilling!

I had a message from a dear friend this morning about living in the present as the best place to be.  A moment later I looked out the window at a clear sky with a few fleecy clouds drifting slowly.  One small cloud sparkled with brilliant colors of a rainbow.  I’ve never seen that before – just one small rainbow colored cloud.  In just this brief moment, this now, this interface of science and religion, there exist exquisite gifts from a generous and complex universe.  What are the odds of that??

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finding gold

1/19/2014

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The new year came blustering in with snow falling, winds howling, temperatures dropping – the kind of winter we “used to” have.  My granddaughter wrote and illustrated a parody on “Over the river and through the woods” that spoke of our plan for the holidays:

Over the mountains and through the plains,
To grandmother’s house we go!
Our car knows the way to drive all day
I hope we won’t get stuck in the snow!

The fourth verse concludes with “hooray for the yummy pie!” But, alas, there was no trip and no yummy pie.  Wisely, the long drive across four states was postponed till August when two family reunions will take place.  No worry about snow drifts and howling winds; just temperatures in the 90’s and thousands of motorcycles roaring into Sturgis, SD for the annual rally. 

The reunions, no matter the size or configuration, are always worth the wait.  My brother and I, now the family “elders” realize how quickly the years go by. Our family has not been together since 2005 when we celebrated our dad’s 90th birthday and our parents’ 65th wedding anniversary.  Since then our parents have passed on; we’ve welcomed four new grandchildren into the clan (my brother’s and sis-in-law’s grands); my granddaughter sits on very cusp of her adult life with high school graduation in 2015, my grandson holds steady smack in the middle of boyhood - soccer champ, lego king, math and science whiz. From Alaska to Colorado to Ontario to Texas, we will come together in South Dakota to become acquainted again. 

Our reunion will piggy-back on my son-in-law’s family gathering in Colorado which will easily include more than 60 relatives from all over the country.  The SD gathering will be much smaller – 20 at most – and both will be equally amusing, adventurous, very sweet and not long enough.

So the holidays have come and gone and I’m getting back to writing.  Thanks to all of you who have been keeping up with my postings, my stories, poems, photos, while crafting your own busy lives.  I appreciate your interest and the comments you share that keep me up to date with you. In this new year, I’m beginning or returning to a familiar undertaking: Medicine Tree Wellness Center.  The name and location here in Hot Springs are new and the services I offer are the evolution of the work I’ve done for many years.  My focus is on what is whole and right in our lives, and on all the many ways we can strengthen and build upon our wellness in body-mind-spirit.  It’s a broad look at bringing balance and ease into areas that call for healing and love.  Despite harm and symptoms and chaos that we may encounter, I see so much evidence that we are growing in love and generosity; we are maturing into compassionate beings.  That changes our physiology, our emotions, our hopes and dreams. My approach as we work together is to be an experienced guide, a partner, a soul friend, a resource. 

I’ll continue with reflections and poems and share more stories as the year moves along.  I hope you will still journey with me.  I wish for you many opportunities to discover wholeness and love in this new year.  I know you will find it! 

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Medicine Tree Wellness Center

0 reiki
o spiritual development
o traditional wisdom

Phyllis Boernke
Sandstar Building
Hot Springs, South Dakota

by appointment . . . 360-393-0872

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Christmas Reflections

12/22/2013

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Tis the season for reflecting, for quieting the body so images and memories may surface.  For telling friends and family how much they mean to us.  For you, dear ones, I extend my Christmas greetings to express my love and gratitude to you for your constancy, your generosity, your kindness and love . . . .



Christmas Love


Love and Joy come to you,
and to you glad Christmas, too . . . .


You have put gladness into my heart. . . .
Psalm 4; v 7







© phyllis boernke 2013

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where mystery abounds

12/8/2013

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where mystery abounds . . . . . . for Tom

       Advent, Christmas, the season of hope and promise, of love, and great mystery.  The Bible tells of visits from angels, of signs in the heavens, of impossible revelations, of the birth of God in human form.  Something magical seems to happen each year as we anticipate the time of giving tangible evidence of our affection to those we cherish. We all seem a little kinder, more playful, more generous.  The great mystery seems more believable and closer to our human experience.

All cultures, all over the world, embrace teachings and rituals, ancient wisdom, and stories that originate far back in time.  We tell of angels and gods and goddesses, of eagles and spirit guides, of mystical teachers; wisdom is embodied in the most unusual forms. Though our stories and beliefs may differ depending on whether we are Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Jewish or a host of other belief systems, all these ways help to explain who we are and where we came from, what we aspire to, and what comes after us. We experience the unexplainable within the context of our lineage and our personal journey. The mystery teachings and our experiences may, over time, deepen within us, giving meaning to our encounters with others and our life circumstances that we could not have anticipated.  We become living testimonies to our beliefs.  Collected wisdom, a storehouse of treasures is what we become when we stay open and trusting of all that is just beyond our sight and comprehension, when we have faith that our lives have purpose, that our prayers are heard, that answers will be revealed, that we matter in the present and for those who follow after us.  

On this day, Sunday, December 8, 1968, my brother Tom died. He was born in 1949 with muscular dystrophy; a mystery in itself as no one on either mother’s or dad’s sides of the family had this genetic disorder.  His life expectancy was ten years.  When he died, Tom was nineteen years old.  He lived his life as fully as possible.  Looking back there were signs that last year that his life was coming to a close.  Still it was full.  He was a sophomore at St. Louis University majoring in physics.  He played guitar and together with several friends – each with physical handicaps – formed a musical band and performed for friends and family.  His lovely girlfriend, with no limitations of body or mind, said that Tom was the most amazing young man she had ever met.  In many respects, he had it all – intelligence, talent, good looks, great friends, supportive family, the love of an amazing young woman. He savored all the goodness in his life.  He never complained about his hardships.

Tom spent his last two weeks in the hospital with pneumonia, often the end result of muscles that atrophy. Still he communicated through smiles, eye movements and by writing on a small tablet held up for him by one of us.  His many questions centered around the great “whys” of life. I did my best to answer him.  With reassurance from his doctors that Tom would be out of the hospital and home for Christmas, we said goodbye on December 7.  We needed to cling to the doctor’s words and offer each other hope.  But when we said goodbye, and I looked in his eyes, I knew that Tom knew, as I did, that this was our final goodbye.  We knew without knowing how we knew.

Our parents spent the night at the hospital. Certain that Tom was resting quietly, they went to the lounge for morning coffee.  A nurse summoned them.  Christmas carols were playing throughout the corridors.  As they stepped into Tom’s room, the last phrase of Silent Night, accompanied them. “Sleep in heavenly peace, sleep in heavenly peace.” Tom was asleep in peace at last.

Tom’s living and dying taught me so much and showed me how little I really know. I believe that the answers we have today, the opinions, the firm convictions are all merely scattered pieces of a jigsaw puzzle.  The “why”questions have no definitive answers. Yet the questions that we ask and are asked, the answers given and received, are the ways we live our lives. We become the missing pieces of the jigsaw puzzle.  We add to the mystery and help to solve it.  We may never understand.  But perhaps those who follow after us, who add their own lives to the puzzle, may catch a clearer glimpse of the whole.  

                                               - in honor of my brother Tom, 1949-1968


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    musings may delight or disturb;  musings may spark new activity, sometimes. . . . .

    Phyllis shares current musings, momentary insights, process in motion.


    All reflections are original material copyrighted by Phyllis.  Please ask permission to quote, copy or reproduce. 



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