Colleen Simpson - Building Bridges between Piegaro & Seattle

Colleen and Lisa First Day of Exploration in Cortona, the start of the Adventures!

I met Collen months after I started serving Green Lake United Methodist Church, I heard amazing stories of her leadership, passion and flare for ministry, but she wasn't here, she was in Piegaro.  It was Colleen's first season as "Patrona de L' Antica Vetreria" - Tom and her vision of retirement work at its finest, running an Inn in a hilltop village in Umbria, Italy.  Their vision became a reality that year so it wasn't until winter that I got to meet this dynamic woman I had heard so much about.
Here at Green Lake UMC Colleen had made a home with her parents worshiping and working in mission as diverse as Rosalee's Quilters (named for her mom), outreach with Operation Nightwatch for Homeless, and with Energizers creating new ways of being church family through fellowship.  Colleen gave so much life over the years to our congregation at the Castle.
When I did finally meet Colleen it was with an instant invitation to come visit Piegaro, it took a year an a half, and a lot hemming and hawing on my part.  What tipped the scale of my decision making was proposing a retreat on St. Francis and actually thinking she would say NO WAY, instead it was "how soon?"  So we planned, plotted and schemed, hoping we could pull it off by May, then reality set in and we realized we needed to do some ground work first, and Colleen graciously accepted me as her guest as we went in search of the Sacred in Umbria.
There were days when we would be gone for 10 or more hours exploring the places Francis went, or that were meaningful places to others who blossomed in their faith lives in the region... they were LONG days.  And Colleen as driver was amazing, she would often pull over rather abruptly as we found a "photo op" or stop to look at a map, "we know that abbey is around here somewhere,".....hmmm.  We traveled through mud, rain, wrong way turns checking out so many places and having an amazing time. We even explored a castle where there were a LOT of antenna coming out of the windows and roof of the chapel and high voltage electric boxes on the grounds...tapping into the spiritual energy?!?!?  Ah the joys of exploration.
What was really fun was when we realized how well I was communicating with the locals and laughing at all my weirdo mistakes in the communication, I called it knuckle dragging Italiano - my cave-speak that had remarkably few verbs and lots and lots of hand motions, movie quotes and laughter.  Collen was there to introduce and be companion to me in this wonderful new place.  Colleen ended up being a perfect partner on this journey that made all the work and effort fun.  To me this is the essence of bridging the places of Green Lake and Piegaro - they are both places where work, relationship, worship and spiritual seeking feed my soul.  Places where I see God in the people, in their struggles and in their joy, there is an abundance of life which Colleen exemplifies.  It was great teamwork after much discernment that our retreat would be two weeks to capture the true spirit of Umbria, which lies in its people, just as the spirit lies in God's people and creation everywhere, which called for new travel itineraries and explorations.
I look forward to our retreats in the future with Colleen as a partner and friend, someone to laugh, pray and cry with.  I pray and ask of my dear friend who is working so hard to make her Inn flourish in a troubled world;  How is it with your Soul friend, today, tomorrow, in Piegaro and when you return to Seattle.  I am blessed with le bella amica, Colleen.

Collen at the Castle, reading the graffitti words of Bob Marley... somehow so appropriate there.

Colleen and Karen, a new friend we met on our adventures looking around Perugia.

Omar, Rennaissance Man

Omar & Lucia - Martin & Gianni in Background - Relationships Everywhere!

Omar was a very fun friend in Piegaro, and he had an added benefit of speaking a smattering of English!  When we met he was with a group of young men who had just come back to Cafe Via Roma after kicking around the soccer ball.  He was introduced to me as one who spoke English.  Immediately he said, "piccolo, piccolo."  Thus, began our weeks long struggle to actually communicate.  It was actually almost the end of my trip that Omar found out I could speak some Spanish, a better language for him than English.  Of course in my own special way that made things worse, as I began rattling off in a mixture of English, Spanish, poor Italian and lots of confusing slang from decades of watching movies.  (Even one of my friends in Seattle has asked for a translator for my slang-lish).   Poor Omar did not know what he got himself into when he agreed to translate.
Yet, Omar was more than willing and a very funny partner in crime at the Caffe as we muddled through topics from spirituality to art, from what he did for a living to translating feelings between people. And FUNNY, it was so great to laugh with Omar who repeatedly would put his arm around my shoulder, "piano, piano, ahhhh Lisa you talk too fast."  It was in these times I realized how much I wanted to communicate with all these people.
Omar shared my belief that spirituality is not something you need to travel to, but that is always where you are.  The spirit certainly moved in Piegaro, just as I've experienced in other travels.  As my time was winding down in Piegaro it was made clear to me that I neglected to ask the most important question of my new friends, "Where do you find Spirit and Beauty and think is a must for Spiritual Retreat."  Omar suggested Gubbio and because of a chain of circumstances, we were able to go the following day.  It held the beauty he spoke of, and some very special places that keep crying out as a siren's song for me to return.  The mountain path that is dotted with chapels that we didn't have the time to explore, the forests that begged to be hiked, the wonderful plazas that would have been lovely to relax in had I not been on my quest to seek and find in a short time, and if the rain hadn't started pouring.  Beautiful, beautiful.
Omar held a special place for me as well when I found out he was a brick/stone mason.  As we wondered these amazing centuries old villages the work that was needed to keep these special places kept up was very obvious, the difference between a ruin and a life-filled village.  A great metaphor for our spiritual lives - we need upkeep and maintenance to stay alive.  When he pointed to the pictures of one of my favorite villages as a place he had worked, I marveled, there was no indication in the brickwork of disruption in architecture or form that would call out a fix job had taken place.  Another great metaphor as I think that we are always essentially who we are created to be in the image of the great creator and as we constantly seek out the sacred, we are seeking our internal essence, our true selves.
I think folks wondered at why I gravitated toward Omar, and part of it was his amazing friendliness and his intentions that were so authentic.  Omar was Omar, he had friends and girlfriend and was always open to a new friendships.  Not trivial ones either, when he realized Colleen's son-in-law was a Magnum Photographer, he brought in his Magnum Book (no small task - it weighed over 10 lbs) to share with Colleen and the others at the Caffe, he naturally makes connections.
My biggest regret of meeting Omar is that I did not visit the one place near Piegaro he listed as a favorite spiritual place, between lack of time and car I never made it to the sulfur springs, but I will, because I trust his spirit sense.  And someday I will follow through on this and other suggestions he made, because as he laughingly said "I cannot come to America, my name is Omar, I'm dark, and they will think I am a terrorist,"  I know Omar to be another saint on the journey!
My greatest questions for Omar is how he connects most deeply with family, people, spirit in the village, he told me a bit, but darn the language barriers.  The questions that I thought of that were so simple such as how do folks really eat here, the restaurants with the many courses can't be the norm, can they??  I love food and sacred experience of feast!  How much does it cost to live in a village such as Piegaro, would a crazy American REALLY be welcome to live in a place like this???  What did the townfolk really think of an American woman pastor??

Omar - Art Lover - Heritage Keeper - Crazy Translator - Amica

Elida e Lea = Lovely

Colleen and Lea at Lea's Home

Eleda and I enjoying the Photos of Piegaro, Church, and Processione.

Lea waves a warm greeting from Eleda's balcony.

My friend Colleen introduced me to a lot of wonderful people in Piegaro, but to of the most warm and welcoming were Eleda and her daughter Lea.  Our congregation had joined many the world over praying for Eleda last fall when she entered the hospital for a very long stay, and being in Piegaro was my opportunity to meet this person who met so much to Colleen that she would send out for a global prayer chain.  Eleda is well worth the global prayers.
Eleda has life within her that just shines from her eyes as she gazes intently into to your own as she seeks deeper communication and relationship.  Eleda is a glowing reminder of why we must be connected to the people in our community, she fully understands the need to engage with fellow human beings.  It is not about words, it is relationship and BEING with another.  She understands why people would seek deeper understandings of the sacred, even a crazy person like myself from half a world away.  She understand the importance of the sacred in life, and seeing it in others.
This is a gift that she has passed to her family, her daughter Lea is not only so welcoming and warm in her limited English, but translates well the HEART of what the other person is saying.  Lea is also a very giving soul who was determined that with each visit that Colleen (and I vicariously) would have an Italian Lesson.  She too understood the importance of direct communication, and opening doors for these Americanas to enter...
They reminded me so much of the truly great matriarchs of the churches I have been blessed to be a part of in my life.  Women who lead by inviting and welcoming, by offering the fullness of hospitality.  Very good at setting times for visits, not just a vague "later" and keeping boundaries around their own needs, they respect all in the relationship, including themselves.  Eleda and Lea are strong women in spirit, joy, and fullness of life.
Because of my incredibly limited Spangloitaliano I found myself wanting so badly to hear their stories and knowing that will take another year.  This amazing little village where Eleda  and Lea live was effected dramatically by WWII and on this Memorial Day I wonder how greatly their lives were affected.  Eleda lived through the depression, the take-over by the fascists and through the war, and Lea grew up in the aftermath.  In the USA we get so many darn war movies that don't take into account how the locals suffered through occupation, and in some communities by multiple forces.  Piegaro has been a glass factory town since the 13th century - the disruption of industry, the disruption of life, the destruction of buildings and local government must have been devastating.  Yet, they have rebuilt city hall (blown up by the Nazis), have built a very large glass factory in the valley, and have seemingly thrived.  How was this turmoil for these lovely ladies?
In modern times as Italy faces economic hardship with the rest of the world, what kind of wisdom can Eleda share with the younger generations, now dealing with a world not unlike that of her youth?  How does Eleda share her wonderful spirit with the younger generation and her wisdom on faith?  I know her activities are so limited now, but also know she has so much to offer, as does Lea, as they have gifted me already, a stranger in their midst.
As I have returned to Seattle and listen to the wisdom of the matriarchs in our congregation in Seattle, I look forward to hearing from these amazing women in Piegaro.

Beautiful, wise, spiritual Elida. Bella!!

Thoughts on Trinity through the lens of Italy

Lila - my English speaking Amica - So lovely to chat with!

This is Sunday is Trinity Sunday, it is about the holy relationship between God, Jesus and Holy Spirit.  Funny thing is that for most of us Christians we've heard the drill over the course of years, but for some of my family who I chat with on Facebook, they didn't know.  Most people in the northern USA are unchurched, they have no history of concepts Christian, these are people who often need to hear the essence of Jesus' message:  we are HERE to be in relationship.
Whether guided by the image of God-Jesus-Spirit as eternally present in the world, or Jesus' teaching the disciples to love neighbor...and enemies.  The reality is that there is a purpose to life, and that is to be in relationship with one another.  When it all comes down, we are the people we are because of the relationships that have informed us from birth.  We become more fully a reflection of God's love when we enter into relationships with neighbors and all people we encounter with a sense of grace.
As I reflect on all the people I met it Italy, and realize how much I desperately wanted wanted to talk and get to know the folks more.  Yet, the gift of our limited communication was that we still had the opportunity for relationship.  Whether within the church, in the shops, or in the caffe, I had the opportunity to meet so many people and start new relationships.  No matter where we are in the world God gives us the neighbors, people to come into relationship with.
One of the great tragedies of the modern age of travel is that we can go from here to there so quick, and continue our rushed pace of life that we often lead back home.  So much so that we often travel to exotic places to see exotic sites and never think about the people who call this place home.  As if the exotic places and sites formed themselves.  The question I was asked by multiple tourists was what did I like best in Italy, in the end it was the people.  But sad to say when the question was turned back on them the answer was a place, a building, or the wine.  I felt like I won the prize of Italy, I encountered God in the love of neighbors half a world away.
It is the people who built beautiful cities such as Assisi, Gubbio, Orvieto and Cortona, the people who cultivate amazing olives, wines and oaks for truffles to thrive.  The people who nurtured and were informed by saints Francis, Clare, Benedict,  Scholastica and more.   To travel to see the world, we should be first ready to not only see, but to meet and greet the people who bring the Spirit to a place.
The holy trinity is a reflection of what we are all called to be - different entities in one relationship.  Now I think it is very handy that the Italians and most other people in the world have more than 1 word for love, because the idea that we are to love our neighbors and share in relationship can mean many things.  But in the end it does first start with caring enough to see people, to acknowledge their identity of children of God, and to celebrate that we have yet one more opportunity to love our neighbor and build new, and in my experience in Italy, blessed relationships.

Sweet Eleda, who served more than chocolates, she served up Love!

Omar knew some English, some Spanish and could sort of understand my words if only I would "piano, piano..."

Bar Caffe Via Roma

An afternoon hanging out in the Caffe

O.k. this is not going to be about a specific person or even a couple of people, but of a place I grew to love.  Ray Oldenburg referred in his book to a Third Place - "The great good place" a place where people could gather which was not home or work, this is what Via Roma is, a place where people would gather for beverages to greet one another, talk, play cards, and generally socialize.  In upcoming blogs I will share stories of some of the great people I met here, where I met Maria each morning whom I already wrote about.  But Caffe Via Roma captured for me a piece of spirituality of place as it drew in a variety of folks from the community.
I was very fortunate that Martin, who runs this piece of heaven, allowed me to work on my photos at the telephone desk, with an injured back it is painful for me to sit, this was a great gift.  Working in the back of the shop allowed me not only a bit of quiet and privacy to work, but also a great place to people watch, or meet and greet those who I knew.  I realized that is what most people did at some point in the day, come into Caffe Via Roma to meet and greet those who they knew.
The other thing that happens in this wonderful place is people had some very real conversations about their feelings, opinions and what was happening in the community or world.  By the end of my stay I could understand about half of what was being said, and was even aware of when I was being talked about. I could tell who was find with the Americana in the other room, and who was not, I could also understand my new found friends speaking of me in a positive light in response.   It was a place where speaking your feelings was the norm, and quite o.k. either pro or con, all were welcome.
It was also the place where I had some great laughs, mostly at my expense, due to my poor Spanglish - eventually Spanglitaliano.  Great fun was the evening Colleen and I came home late from one of our days out traveling in the footsteps of St. Francis and planning next year's retreat.  We were tired and pretty silly by the time we got to Caffe Via Roma for a nightcap.  There were some great young men there and we all had a laugh at the crazy painting I purchased that we dubbed that night "The Guffo-Gatto" - or - "The Owl-Cat".  It had reminded me of the childhood poem of the Owl and the Pussycat and as one of the guys would put it "genetic catastrophe" that would ensue.
Communication is only 15% words, the rest lies in our enunciation, our body language and in the feelings we express.  From sweet breakfasts with Maria, to quiet work time with a break here or there, to zany nightcaps, I found a great "Third Place" here, where people communicated very well.
Living in the U.S.A. where we often keep our feelings and opinions to ourselves as not to offend, I found this refreshing.  I found it refreshing to see a young man in tears pouring out his heart to other men.  I found it refreshing that "outsiders" like the Moravians were welcome along with the people who were suspect of the immigrants.   I found it refreshing that this was not where the young people hung out, or the old people hung out, but where everyone mixed and mingled.  I even liked the fact that Martin's family were always close by, it offered up a sense of this place as an extension of home.
One of the great things I observed was some of the patterns of life, how folks would come in the morning for a caffe, back for a break before siesta, and a nightcap at the end of the working day.  It was a great pattern of rest and work that made the flow of the day seem so smooth.  And of course, they were closed Sunday for a day of rest.
As an American I find it so easy to lose patterns of life, to remember to rest in the midst of work on busy weeks, and I'm not alone.  Stories I hear from friends who work long hours with no breaks in the day and then are frazzled, go home and secure themselves in their homes.  There is no Third Place in many of our lives, no place to take that break, meet with people, share our feelings, consult with one another over choices we need to make in our lives.  Even at the bookstores in Seattle "Third Place" you don't have the mingling of community that happens here at Caffe Via Roma.
It is in this place I would have loved to asked bigger questions:  How are the people of this intimate community effected by the global downturn and now the Italian austerity measures?  Do most of the people of Piegaro stay in this region, stay connected to the community?  How have you been effected by outsiders, including me and other tourists in this small town?  How does this wonderful place, Caffe Via Roma mirror the spirit of Piegaro?  Can you tell me some of the stories of your lives and loves....?!?!  Por favore, por gratzi.

Famiglia del caffe

Rigatzi del Caffe

My Via Roma Posse - More to Come on these Gems!

Don Augusto, Man of Spirit

Don Augusto - Processione dei Miricoli

It is always a good thing to me to worship God in any language and worshiping in an Italian Church was all I could have hoped for and so much more.  Our first Sunday in Piegaro was Mother's Day - or Festa del la Mama, with people buying azaleas for their mothers to benefit breast cancer and people everywhere enjoying the day with mom.  Colleen and I away from our own children reveled in the opportunity to visit the Glass Museum, Museo del Vetro, where the kids were selling their glass art to benefit their education program.   After the museum, it was time to follow the call of the bells to the church at the heart of town.
When we arrived we were welcomed by the sound of a wonderful woman cantor leading the congregation, who at that time was ALL women in singing the Rosary.  As we were seated and the sweet song of prayers rose to the heavens more and more people arrived and the sound had a natural crescendo.  It was a truly AWESOME way to enter into this sacred time.
When Don Augusto entered, he pretty much set up for worship then and there, it was sweet to know that small churches are small churches everywhere, and sometimes the details don't all get done before service.  Somehow I found this very comforting away from my small congregation in Seattle.  The order of service or the "liturgy" was very similar to ours, it only lacked the choir and quantity of congregational singing that is so much the backbone of Methodism where we sing our faith.  As Don Augusto entered into his homily there were to things I noted right away, one is that he appears to close his eyes during this "awesome task" as a friend of mine calls delivering the message, and he spoke very clearly, very slowly during the homily.  20 years out of Spanish class, with a thin amount of Italian seeping in after one week, I could actually understand much of what he was saying.  It was a great blessing to hear him speak of God's love as a parent's love, he had my heart for worship that day.  During communion I felt I should be respectful of our proximity to the Vatican and simply stayed in my seat.  As worship ended, my soul felt very full.
Then something wonderfully amazing happened, Don Augusto came out to talk with Colleen and I, and to ask the pointed question why didn't this American Pastor receive communion?  With the help of a wonderful young couple as interpreters Don Augusto and I talked theology of the Eucharist, and we were welcomed to partake as we agreed that it is in Christ and taking in Christ into our lives that we are changed, we become Christian.  He honored me with calling my colleague.  I felt truly, truly honored.
I then took photos of this amazing church, chiesa, with it's relics, it's chapels and the wonderful art throughout the architecture and imagery that pointed to something greater than ourselves, to the Sacred.  Don Augusto's spirit echoed that of the building, pointing to the sacred.
Later in the week we were blessed again to worship at the church as they celebrated the Procession of Miracles, Processione de Miracolo.  As someone who worships in a city where less than 10% of the people attend worship it was a miracle for me to see a church OVERFLOWING with people on a Wednesday afternoon, in the middle of the workday.  Women, men, children hundreds came, and Don Augusto's homily moved my heart again as he spoke this time of how God works miracles even in little towns like Piegaro.   This time I did receive communion and felt my spirit rise.  The Processione followed worship and after a prayer by Don Augusto he led the people through the streets of town chanting all the way.
Wow, believe in Miracles, and am so grateful to God for blessing me with this amazing opportunity to worship half a world away with the wonderful people of Piegaro and Don Augusto.
I look forward to coming back next year to talk more fully about theology, all the amazing feast days and to ask so many questions of Don Augusto about the faith of Piegaro and Umbria.  I saw so much, I long to hear the stories.

Processione via del paseggio

Over the Door of the Church, "Enter into the Love of God, Go out to Love your Neighbor"

Coming Down from the Mountain

View through the trees from the Mont'Arale

Life is plagued with ups and downs, times when we are so high, it is a mountaintop experience; exhilarating, full of great spiritual fulfillment and times we fall to the depths of the valleys of the darkest of emotions and feelings of despair.  For myself, this has been a rough couple of years, as life seemed to slowly spiral downward through spiritual crisis of family and ministry.  This time opened up questions for me on the deeper meanings of "home," "call," and "ministry."  On my recent visit to Italy I had the joy of coming down a literal mountain and finding myself full of awe and wonder at the beautiful metaphor the mountain top decent to valley that unfolded before me.  A walking journey that gave time to breathe, experience and observe slowly, savoring the descent carefully, meaningfully.  Metaphors are so often a source of wisdom, and in this instance it was a great spiritual journey that provided insights for healing and wholeness as well.

Beautiful Cross at the top of Mont'Arale

The journey began in a wonderful way in the fact that I did not have to climb the mountain, but was dropped off by my dear friend and the source of my even being in Italy, Colleen.  When people ask how I originally visited Italy, the simple answer is, Colleen, but the more authentic answer is that God led me to a place in life where I was destined to encounter my unknowing but essential guide to this portion of life's journey.  The "real" drive to the top of the mountain was out of efficiency of time, and because currently I am simply tired, this was a time to rest not work-out.  Colleen and I had been exploring locations for our Spring 2011 spiritual retreat and the Mont'Arale was the last place to take pictures of and explore, so thusly I was dropped at the top.
At the top of Mont'Arale is a great Cross that is lit at night and shines over the valleys below, a great sight to see when we are returning home to the village of Piegaro from afar, a familiar, beloved beacon.    In the daytime the curves of the details of the cross are quite elegant and the experience of truly being so high is wonderful.  I was informed by a local friend, Christiana that you can actually see Rome from the top of the mountain, 150 km away.  Perusia and Lago Trasimeno seem close enough to touch from there.  The vista is all at once awesome, amazing and peaceful through the trees.
As I began the descent a few things became obvious to me, the seasons were changing and the people were hurriedly preparing for the onset of autumn and winter to come.  The grasses of the fields were turning a late season golden along the sides of the road, peppered with wildflowers and busy bees.  The farms of the mountainside were busy with men cutting and loading firewood to be delivered to local homes.  There were multiple families tending their yards and homes; bringing in crops and fixing roofs, once again busy, busy.  I reflected at how much work the changes in seasons, the changes in our lives take, a constant flow of energy poured out.  The necessity of change means the necessity of work, hard work.

Signs of seasonal change, vines wither as grapes and pumpkins ready for harvest.

In the walking I also realized that even though I hadn't climbed the mountain, the downward walk was also strenuous.  The slope of the hill meant gravity induced heavy steps that wore on the knees and ankles, pulling quickly to invite a speedy pace.  The walk therefore was not entirely in my control, and drew me into a faster pace than I would have cared to go as I took in all the beauty of the countryside, farms and vistas that lay about me.  There were also signs of road-kill, rust, fallen fruit, never to be eaten and abandonment, reminders that this was no longer the mountain top.
As I reached the valley floor, I was noticeably tired. I could see the goal of the village of Piegaro looming on the other side of the valley, inviting me on, looking so beautiful on the next hilltop.  In the valley the river was now a trickle of a creek, the fields had turned away from the lushness of the green of spring.  The roads connecting towns were bustling with trucks and traffic in the afternoon, filling the air with noise and smells that overcame nature.  And yet, and yet...
As I came to the very bottom I heard one of my favorite sounds of Piegaro, the flock of sheep grazing in the meadow, their bells and bahhhs singing a sweet tune.  As I reflected on words of a spiritual advisor asking if I had "hit my bottom" in current life place, I was overjoyed by the sight of sheep.  The Psalmist's words, "the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want..." sang in my head; here, in this place visible, audible signs of hope abounding in the driest of valleys.  I set about immediately to take some pictures joyfully.  At that moment a gentleman pulled up in his truck and speaking in Italian asked, "Are you taking pictures of the sheep?" "Si!"
"Why?" "Per que mio pazzo!" (because I'm crazy)
"Where do you live?"  "Piegaro!"
"O.K" he said as he drove off laughing.
I realized in the conversation that a) my Italian improves quickly when I'm there and b) the most truthful thing I spoke from my heart that trip was that I live, Live, LIVE in Piegaro.  For all the confusion and muddle of the last 2 years, I had found a place to live and breathe Spirit that fed my soul, in God's time, at my time of greatest need.  As I began, re-energized, walking up the hill toward Piegaro, I thought of all the beautiful reflections from my journey down the mountain:
Life is full of changes, it requires reaction and work. Just as the seasons change, so do our lives.  How do we adjust gracefully, work well with the changes we choose, and those we don't choose on life's journey?
What can we do to savor the moments that slip by so quickly, both the times of grace and of challenge, when we feel pulled almost by nature through life more rapidly than we would like?
How do we see hope when we hit bottom?  How do we listen for unknown voices calling us to name our truth?  What brings us the courage when at the depths to speak our truth?
Finally, what helps us identify where we LIVE the life we've been given, this one, precious life?  What gives us strength to live into the fullness of that life, and how do we nurture it?
May we all take time to see the sacred in surprising ways, when and where we aren't  expecting, and know that even when we traverse into the lowest levels of our lives that God is with us, guiding us as a VERY Good Shepherd.

Ah...if you could imagine the bells and bahhhs of the content sheep.