I have a guest post up at the Customer Love Blog: If You Want to Love Your Customers, Love YOU First.

How did I do on my first guest post outing?

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SHE died,—this was the way she died;
And when her breath was done,
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.

Her little figure at the gate
The angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her

Upon the mortal side.
~~Emily Dickinson

Donna Carter

Requiem for Donna

Donna died–this was the way she died:
In her sleep she smiled, reaching
For JoAnn’s hand one last time.
Letting go her hand, letting go life.

Wings unfurled to the skies
Donna was free, climbing higher
To her home and to her God.
Not to be seen on this mortal side.
~~Shawna R. B. Atteberry

Rest in peace my beloved cousin.

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This month was another Customer Love Month. I fully intended to take part, show you how much I loved you, and I had the big plans of releasing my first product on this site: What You Didn’t Learn in Sunday School: Women Who Didn’t Shut Up and Sit Down. But it didn’t happen.

What happened was depression. I’ve mentioned before that I have clinical depression. And it was one big, fire-breathing dragon. For two weeks I was doing good just to function, much less anything else. It got to the point where putting a load of laundry in the washing maching was an overwhelming thought.

Loving my customers? Literally scared me stiff on the couch (where I watched TV and mindlessly surfed the internet). How could I love my customers when I couldn’t love me? And I couldn’t love me. Although for once I did take care of myself. I also talked to people about it: My Hubby was great. The man made me laugh even when I didn’t want to. It helped. Jen Louden and the wonderful women at the Savor and Serve Cafe were a wonderful support group and gave me lots of sympathy and encouragement. (This group is worth every penny.)

I’d have a couple of good days then crash for several days. It was obvious no amount of self-care, chocolate, and TV watching (even the hunky CSI:NY TV watching) was going to help. It was time to call my psychaitrist. I saw him a week ago today. We talked and decided that my body had adjusted to the anti-depressant I was taking. We decided to wean me off the Paxil and start me on Cymbalta. And it worked. My doctor said it would take two weeks before I started to notice a difference, but it only took a few days. I felt much better by Friday.

I received a much needed reminder last week that I can be strong and resiliant when I need to be. Tuesday we had an emergency. Yes I still felt lousy and depressed, but a loved one needed me, and I was there. Even in the midst of that crappy, hopeless, apathetic state, I had resources I could call on and deliver the support and love that was called on. I also made sure my loved one was not forgotten. You don’t want to mess with me on this: I turn into a mother bear on the kill when I feel someone I love is short-changed and ignored.

While I was sitting and waiting (and I did a lot of that Tuesday night), it hit me this is the way I need to feel about my customers. What I want to do—free women from the religious crap that tells them they were created soley to serve men and be subordinate to men all their lives—need what I have to offer. I need to be their mother bear and advocate for them. I need to have that same protective fierceness for them I have for people I love. And I can do that. I have those resources, that strength. And they are there when I need them, regardless of what I feel like.

This means I need to give myself a break. Although I tried to take care of myself while the depression ruled my world, I wasn’t very nice to myself. The internal self-talk was very negative and not loving at all. Which brings us back to the title of this post: in order to love your customers you have to love yourself. A little over a week ago I wrote a post on how the Christians and Muslims in Egypt obeyed the commandment to love their neighbors as their selves. A lot of time we forget those last three words. We can only love our neighbors, our customers, anyone as much we love ourselves.

The last couple of days I’ve been working on loving myself, so that I can love you the way you deserve to be loved.

P.S. What You Didn’t Learn in Sunday School: Women Who Didn’t Shut Up and Sit Down will be availabe in March.

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We take Halloween very seriously too

You remember the TV show Freaks and Geeks? It had the tagline: “What High School was like for the rest of us?” This is what Valentine’s Day is for the rest of us, who’s romantic tastes fall on the more….macabre and nerdy side of things.

I should preface this that for our first date My Then-Best-Friend-Morping-into-My-Boyfriend took me on The Haunted Chicago Tour. It was perfect. And even if you’re not a believer of things that go bump in the night, the tour is worth the money because of all of the weird and macabre and gory Chicago history that you learn on during this 2.5 hours. But I’m a believer of things that go bump in the night, so I was really hoping to see the monk ghosts who supposedly haunt Hull House. Everyone one else was trying to see Demon Baby up in the second story window while I was wondering around the garden outside of the house praying to see monk ghosts. I should also mention the year before when My Best Friend was trying woo me, so he could become My Boyfriend, he lent me Neil Gaiman’s Neverwhere and American Gods to show me he was interested. Our first date fell around his birthday, so I brought along a Anansi’s Boys for his present, then we went on The Haunted Chicago Tour. That’s who we are.

February is one brutal month of Chicago, and I got my first taste when I flew up to spend one of the weekends around Valentine’s Day with The Boyfriend. The highs that weekend were like two degrees. We’d just gotten together, and hadn’t seen each for over two weeks, so cuddling for warmth on the couch watching movies sounded romantic (and warm) for both of us. Did we watch Casablanca? Ever After? Sleepless in Seattle. Oh hell no. Here was our “romantic” movie line-up: Donnie Darko, Being John Malkovich, Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon, and Groudhog Day. We may have watched a couple of Pixar movies because we totally love Pixar. Knowing us: The Incredibles was also on the line-up. We did brave the frigid Chicago weather for a wonderful meal at Gioco’s. But that’s not what I remember. What I remember are airplane engines falling out of the sky, people taking over John Malkovich, and Bill Murphy committing suicide and taking Phil with him.

This picture was NOT taken in February

Then there was our first Valentine’s Day as Husband and Wife. Sometime before February (and yes the weather was brutal), we were watching Mythbusters, and Kari was wearing a shirt that said Geek. And Geek was written in Greek letters. I blew out one of The Hubby’s eardrums by jumping up and down on the couch and yelling and screeching: “I HAVE TO HAVE THAT SHIRT!” You see, being the total nerdy dork I am, Greek was my favorite subject in college, and I pursued the M.A. that was almost nothing but Greek and Hebrew. I’ve called myself a Greek Geek for years. I. HAD. TO. HAVE. THAT. TSHIRT. And guess what The Hubby gave me for Valentine’s Day? Yeah baby. (I don’t remember where we ate out at.)

Another Valentine’s Day I received a collection of books to teach myself Latin because a couple of weeks before I had mentioned that I love learning dead languages, and I wanted to add Latin to Greek, Hebrew, and Aramaic. The Hubby is my biggest supporter when it comes to learning more geeky subjects and becoming a bigger nerd. God, I love that man. (Don’t remember where we ate at.)

Tonight we’ll be staying in and watching Being Human and Castle. Because that’s just who we are. We’ll be going out to Gioco’s for dinner on Wednesday because we don’t want to deal with all the crowds (and next year I probably won’t remember where we ate at). It’s who we are. And may be next year we’ll go on Haunted Chicago’s My Bloody Valentine Tour (scroll down about half way down the page).

C’mon, you know you want to join us.

Now I am off to write a wonderfully macabre Valentine poem for my nerdy macabre Husband.

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Like many of you who read this blog, I have been watching what’s been happening in Egypt avidly. After almost three weeks Mubarak has stepped down after very peaceful protests. The only violence that happened started with the government, not the people. And yesterday when Mubarak said he wasn’t going anywhere, the people did not let their anger lead them to violence, their protesting remained peaceful. The thing that has touched me the most, moved me to tears, is the way that Coptic Christians and Muslims are taking care of each other, and showing the entire world what it looks like to “love your neighbor as yourself.” Or as the Quaran says: “…Do good to parents, kinsfolk, orphans, the poor, the neighbor who is near of kin, the neighbor who is stranger, the companion by your side…” (4:36, emphasis mine).

Here is how Egyptian Muslims and Christians loved their neighbors:

From Ahram Online

On New Year’s Eve a Coptic Church was bombed in Alexandria, Egypt, killing 21 people. The Copts did not stand alone in their outrage. Their Muslim neighbors joined in and protested with them. On Ahram Online two Muslims made these powerful statements:

“We either live together, or we die together,” was the sloganeering genius of Mohamed El-Sawy, a Muslim arts tycoon whose cultural centre distributed flyers at churches in Cairo Thursday night, and who has been credited with first floating the “human shield” idea.

“This is not about us and them,” said Dalia Mustafa, a student who attended mass at Virgin Mary Church on Maraashly Street. “We are one. This was an attack on Egypt as a whole, and I am standing with the Copts because the only way things will change in this country is if we come together.”

The Cross within the Crescent became the symbol for Egyptians who did not want fundamentalists on either side to define their religions. Muslims promised their Christian brothers and sisters they would attend the Coptic Christmas Eve service (January 8 on the Coptic calendar) and stand as human shields to protect their Christian neighbors. They were as good as their word. Muslims all over Egypt attended mass at Christian churches across the country to show their solidarity, not only with their neighbors, but for peace and safety from terrorist acts. (Thank you to chantblog for bringing this article and picture to my attention.)

Two weeks later Trahrir Square was filled with people demanding democracy: Muslims and Christians gathered against the totalitarian government demanding Mubarak step down, and a democratic government that listened to the people–all of the people–be organized. While his country’s unemployment rate was 30% and the cost of food doubled, Mubarak was sitting on $70-80 billion dollars. Yes BILLIONS, not millions. I can understand why the Egyptians said enough is enough (not to mention being imprisoned and tortured for not pulling the tyrannical line). And we in US we complicit in the dictatorship: we set up Mubarak and supported his regime.We give 1.5 billion dollars a year to Egypt for their military. We were also complicit in the tyranny when our government originally sided with the Mubarak regime to keep “stability” in the region. But that military stayed neutral throughout the protests. They did not attack the protestors nor did they try to make them leave. They stayed on the circumference and only acted if they needed to break something up. If Mubarak commanded them to disperse the protestors, they did not obey. The government shut down the internet in the country because people were using Twitter and Facebook to connect and organize. The people still found ways to organize and gather to protest tyranny.

Last week things did become violent as goon squads were sent out to attack the people. The general belief is that Mubarak and his officials sent the goon squads out to violently disperse the protesters. But the protesters held their ground and fought back. They were not leaving the square. Again the military stayed neutral. They broke apart fights and shot in tear gas when groups started fighting, but they did not take sides.

Friday, February 4, came: the Muslims holy day when this beautiful picture was posted on Yfrog. Nevine Zaki, who was in Tahrir Square, snapped this photo of Christians ringing around their Muslim brothers and sisters, so they could pray safely.

Nevine Zaki/Yfrog

As the Muslims protected them during Christmas Eve mass, now the Christians protected Muslims as they prayed on their weekly holy day.

But that’s not the end of it. On Sunday, February 6, Egyptian Christians held a mass in Tahrir Square and Muslims joined in. According to UPI.com:

Egyptian Christians held a mass of unity in Cairo’s Tahrir Square Sunday to show solidarity with the country’s thousands of anti-government protesters.

Muslim prayers also resounded in the square “in what seemed a show of interfaith harmony” five weeks after a suicide bomber killed at least 21 people at the end of a New Year’s Eve mass in Alexandria, The New York Times reported.

“We are all one,” people began chanting in Tahrir Square after the outdoor Coptic Christian mass was completed.

*                    *                     *                       *                        *                    *

Sunday’s mass was “for all Egyptians, Muslim and Christian, and I am proud to be Egyptian today because we are showing the world how important our country is for all the people who live here,” a 33-year-old Christian identified as Farid told the Egyptian news Web site Bikya Mass after the liturgy was completed.

The CopticNews.org, a Canadian site, posted this video from Sunday’s Mass at Tahrir Square, 2/6/11. (I can’t get the video to embed.)

Anticipation built this week as it appeared Mubarak was going to step aside. Then Mubarak spoke Thursday. It was one of the most patriarchal, clueless speeches, I think I’d ever heard. Mubarak made himself out as the old-style patriarch who ruled the entire family with an iron fist. His general message was: “I am your father, and you are my children. Obey me or suffer.” Mubarak was so out-of-touch with the rest of Egypt that he thought all he had to do was play the old-time paterfamilias/ruler, and the people would just go home. Instead they erupted in angry shouts of “Leave! Leave! Leave!” They marched on the palace and the state’s TV station. More people came. The people weren’t going anywhere until Mubarak was gone. And once again the people didn’t get violent. The protesters stayed peaceful. Personally I think Mubarak was trying to goad them to violence, so he could unleash the military on them. The people did not take the bait. Today Mubarak stepped down, and those thousands of people who stood their ground peacefully and demanded a democratic government are celebrating in Tahrir Square and across Egypt.

Myths have been busted in Egpyt. The myth that Arabs/Muslims always resort to violence to change government is gone. The myth that there has never been a peaceful protest or change of government in the Middle East is gone. The myth that Muslims and Christians are enemies, and that Muslims always terrorize and murder Christians in Muslim nations BUSTED. And this myth was busted on the global stage. In Egypt we saw Muslims protecting Christians as they worshiped. In Egypt we saw Christians protecting Muslims as they worshiped. In Egypt we saw Christians and Muslims worshiping side by side, and standing in unity and solidarity to make their country a better place.

This is what it looks like to “do good to the neighbor who is near of kin, the neighbor who is stranger.” This is what loving your neighbor as yourself looks like in real life. This is what loving your neighbor as yourself looks like in oppressive regimes where doing the right thing is, not only hard, but deadly. This is what Jesus was talking about when he told the parable of The Good Samaritan to illustrate “who is my neighbor?” It’s easy to give empty lip-service to loving our neighbors, but this is what it looks like when the rubber hits the road. This is what it looks like when it’s not easy, but you do it anyway.

“Love your neighbor as yourself.”

“Do good to the neighbor who is near of kin and the neighbor who is stranger.”

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St. Brigid icon by Katherin Burleson

Brigid is one of my favorite saints. I think the main reason is because we can’t separate history from legend when it comes to her story. She’s part woman, part saint, and part goddess. Throw in a few miracles and Brigid going back and forth through time to be Mary’s midwife and the foster-mother of Christ, himself, and you just have one good story (and I love a good story).

What we do know about Brigid: she created the first monastic community that grew into the most renowned monastic city in Ireland, Kildare. Brigid was the abbess of the convent and church and the leader of the town that grew up around Kildare. She was known for her piety, her hard work, and her hospitality. She worked side by side with her nuns tending sheep and milking cows, along with weaving and cooking. Gifts given to the monastery by the rich were given to the poor or sold for food. No one was turned away from her convent, and she provided for all. One of the legends say that Brigid could speak to a cow and get her to give milk three times a day when she needed it for visitors. Here is a table grace attributed to Brigid:

I should like a great lake of finest ale
For the King of kings.
I should like a table of the choicest food
For the family of heaven.
Let the ale be made from the fruits of faith,
And the food be forgiving love.

I should welcome the poor to my feast,
For they are God’s children.
I should welcome the sick to my feast,
For they are God’s joy.
Let the poor sit with Jesus at the highest place,
And the sick dance with the angels.

God bless the poor,
God bless the sick,
And bless our human race.
God bless our food,
God bless our drink,
All homes, O God embrace.

Kildare grew so big that Brigid could no longer run it alone. A local bishop, Cloneth came to the monastery to help her and he brought monks with him. The monks were master silver and bronze smiths who created beautiful silver and metal ornaments to go with the nuns’ woven and embroidered tapestries throughout the monastery and church. One of her biographers, a monk who lived at Kildare during Brigid’s life, said this about the monastery and town:

But who could convey in words the supreme beauty of her church and the countless wonders of her city, of which we speak? “City” is the right word for it: that so many people are living there justifies the title. It is a great metropolis, within whose outskirts–which Saint Brigid marked out with a clearly defined boundary–no earthly adversary feared, nor any incursion of enemies. For the city is the safest place of refuge among all towns of the whole land of the Irish, with all their fugitives. It is a place where the treasures of kings are looked after, and it is reckoned to be supreme in good order.

Cogitosus also hinted in his biography that Brigid functioned as a bishop preaching, hearing confession, and ordaining priests. The lines between laity and clergy, and the roles between men and women, were not as fixed in Ireland as they were in other places in Europe. It is possible that abbesses as powerful and influential as Brigid did function as bishops (this would quickly change once the Roman Catholic church gained a foothold in Ireland).

Roses Kildare Ireland by hugh.carlow/Flickr

Now to the fun stuff. As I mentioned before, the Celtic tradition honors Brigid as Mary’s midwife, Jesus’ wet nurse, and his foster-mother. “Time” was not a fixed, linear progression for the Celtic people. The material world and spiritual world intertwined in and out of each other. There were thin places were one could cross from one world to another with time running differently. This is why the legend of Brigid at the birth of Jesus was not a big deal for the Celts. The material and spiritual were not separate worlds in their thought. I also like this legend because, being the post-modern that I am, I like the idea of putting yourself into the story. Where am I in the grand story of God’s people? How is this story, my story? How is my story now becoming a part of the whole story? Brigid went on to become the spiritual mid-wife to Celtic women giving birth, and the midwife called Brigid into the house to assist in the birth.

Back before the stories of Brigid helping Mary and hanging her cloak on a sunbeam to dry out, Brigid was a goddess in the Celtic pantheon. She was the goddess of poets, blacksmiths, and healers. She was a triple goddess revealing herself as maiden, mother, and crone. The fair maiden to poets, the mother creating new life to blacksmiths, and the old wise woman who knows how to heal. She has long been the symbol of spring coming to the land and the arrival of more light during this time of the year. February 1 is her day, and she was called on to protect the sheep who at this time would be carrying lambs. In the Christian tradition she is remembered for being able to coax cows into milking, and for being able to churn butter for everyone who needed it.

Milking cows and churning butter brings us back into the everyday realm. There is a strong domestic atmosphere in the stories of St. Brigid. Brigid’s life revolves around the home: giving away food to the poor, churning butter to feed all those who lived in the area, sweeping the floor, sewing, and herding both cattle and sheep. She kept her monastery in good order for visitors. Her love for domesticity naturally led to her generous hospitality. There was always food, clothing, and a bed in her house for those who needed it. Like so many women, Brigid wanted a well-run house where her family (her nuns) would have a nice home, and those who visited would find refuge. I am surprised at how domestic I’ve become in the last few years. I’ve realized I’m becoming more like Brigid. I want a clean, orderly house that can be a home and refuge for my husband and I. I also want to extend hospitality to our friends and give them a place to come eat, drink, and be merry. I want them to find a refuge for awhile, rest and have fun while they are under our roof.

As the light comes back this spring, let us remember Brigid: a woman committed to her Godde, to helping the poor, and to taking care of all who came to her. She established a community that became a light to all who wanted to come pray, learn, work, or needed shelter and food. She believed that everyone was part of the kingdom of Godde, and for that reason alone should be treated with respect and cared for. Everyone should have a home they can come to. There is room at the table for all. There is enough food to go around. And if not, Brigid will be seen whispering in the ears of her milk cows.

A Collect for the Feast of St. Brigid:

Everliving God, we rejoice today in the witness of your servant Brigid of Kildare, who served as courageous leader and mentor, faithfully shepherding both men and women in her monastery and guiding them into holiness of life: Inspire us with life and light, and give us perseverance to serve you in our own day. This we ask in the name of the Holy and Undivided Trinity, one God, in glory everlasting. Amen. (From The Saint Helena Breviary, Personal Edition, 281).

Here are two other wonderful posts about Brigid:

A Habit of Wildest Bounty: Feast of St. Brigid at Jan Richardson’s The Painted Prayerbook.
Celtic Prayer: Brigid, Comrade-Woman by Elizabeth Cunningham at The Virtual Abbey.

Originally posted February 1, 2010.

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© 2011 Shawna R. B. Atteberry Suffusion theme by Sayontan Sinha