Walking Two Dogs

I just had an interesting object lesson a few minutes ago. For years now, I've had Georgie and Edgar. Georgie is an 8-year-old Newfoundland, and Edgar is an almost 14-year-old Bichon. When I take them outside on their leashes, whether we're just going out to the backyard or going for a walk in the neighborhood, they almost never want to go the same direction. Invariably I am pulled in two directions, or trying to compensate for one sniffing or squatting while the other pulls ahead. Always it seems I am the tension point between two desires--Georgie wants to go one direction, and Edgar the other.

Tonight it occurred to me that it's not fun to be that point of tension, trying to manage everyone else's wishes. How do you decide whose desires are more important? Is it more important to drag Edgar along to keep up with George or to hold George back so Edgar can take his sweet time? Either answer produces inner tension because I'm aware that one dog isn't getting what he or she wants. One has to be pushed somehow to meet the other's need. In a peer-to-peer relationship, they might be able to work that out themselves. But as the one trying to coordinate it all, I am responsible, so I have to choose. And I'm never comfortable because I am busy trying to keep it all balanced and as even as possible.

Of course, unseen in this push-me-pull-you dynamic is my own desires, which are probably acting the loudest of all without me noticing. Am I rushing them both because I've got other things I'd rather be doing? Am I letting them have their sniffy doggy moments, finding out which bunny has been in the yard today? What if I directly admitted how I felt about being pushed and pulled this way and just led them in the way I wanted to according to my desires? Wow, there's an interesting thought. And perhaps a key insight into some other puzzles in my past. LOL!

So tonight, seeing now a thousand stars shining in through the open window, I offer you this little flicker of light. The next time you feel torn between two choices, people, events, or priorities, ask yourself about the unspoken third voice that is waiting to be heard. It's the voice of your own desire that will clearly tell you what feels right for you in the moment. Then you have the choice to act on it or not, but at least you won't be unconsciously yanked along at the end of anybody's leash. :)

Joy within joy

It is a beautiful morning here in Indiana...I am sitting in the sunroom, drinking coffee, listening to the sound of the wind in the trees, watching the patterns of light and shadow move on the floor and wall. Peaceful, relaxed, enjoying.

Sid the cat has another idea. His idea of joy is a good healthy scratch on the head, between the ears. In fact, he'll climb into my lap and do quite a few calisthenics in order to achieve his goal. He flips around, he butts my hand (holding a full mug of coffee) with his head. He looks at me and meows. He's very persistent.

At first I resist. I want to sit quietly and witness all the beauty going on around me. I don't particularly feel like being bullied from my reverie by a three-year-old cat.

And yet, as I watch him persist, a little bud of admiration begins to smile within me. He really is a remarkable cat. And what an honor that he would choose me--choose my lap, choose this moment, need my hands--to help him find his joy. I give up my idea of nonmovement and pet his head, and he pushes his face into my hand, smiling and purring loudly. I have never seen a more appreciative cat. I laugh and continue petting.

I realize after a moment that I am experiencing joy, too. It is not the peaceful, introspective awe kind of joy I was feeling before Sid moved into my lap, but it is a rich, full, connected joy that comes from participating in the joy of another and knowing you had a part in making it possible. It is interesting to me that one kind of joy makes me want to avoid contact (because I will have to leave the quiet spot of wonder I have found), while the other joy draws me into contact (often, perhaps because of my introverted personality, against my own preference). How nice to realize that there is joy along both paths--and the one that is not my natural choice may be even richer for me because it draws me into relationship.

May you experience joy within joy--inwardly and outwardly--today.

Which shoes will you wear?

This morning I walked into the sunroom and noticed (odd how things just pop into your noticing like that) four pairs of my shoes by the back door. Four! The first thing that washed over me was the sheer extravagance of that. Do I really need four pairs of shoes? Three of them were sandals, and one a pair of boots for taking the dogs out in the rain and mud. And what's more, there are other pairs upstairs in my closet. Shoes with heels; shoes without. Fancy shoes, comfortable shoes.

The shoes have different personalities. The ones I'm wearing are made of hemp. Very light, soft, comfortable.

As I slipped my feet into the shoes, I thought of the way in which we put on our attitudes for the day. Will my approach to life be natural, soft, comfortable today? I hope so. May you choose the day you hope to create in much the same way you decided what to put on your feet this morning. It's all the same choice, you know. :)

Song of the body

Mary Oliver's new book of poetry (just made available in paperback) is Red Bird, and this poem is the last one in the volume. But it's beautiful, lifting up a key idea that's been gleaming at the center of my attention for the last few weeks--the tender interplay between body, mind, and spirit. So much of religion seems like it wants to cast off the body and value the soul or spirit; so much of practical life ignores or tunes out the call of spirit; but it's really a both/and--and that is the recipe for joy and peace. I'm learning that, g r a d u a l l y. :) Here's the poem:

Red Bird Explains Himself

Yes, I was the brilliance floating over the snow
and I was the song in the summer leaves, but this was
only the first trick
I had hold of among my other mythologies,
for I also knew obedience: bring sticks to the nest,
food to the young, kisses to my bride.

But don’t stop there, stay with me: listen.

If I was the song that entered your heart
then I was the music of your heart, that you wanted and needed,
and thus wilderness bloomed that, with all its
followers: gardeners, lovers, people who weep
for the death of rivers.

And this was my true task, to be the
music of the body. Do you understand? for truly the body needs
a song, a spirit, a soul. And no less, to make this work,
the soul has need of a body,
and I am both of the earth and I am of the inexplicable
beauty of heaven
where I fly so easily, so welcome, yes,
and this is why I have been sent, to teach this to your heart.

How to weed a garden

It's a beautiful rainy morning here in Indiana...the windows are open in the sunroom as I write this...gentle thunder rolls a few miles away...heaven...

Yesterday the weather was completely different--sunny, hot, with a wonderful spring breeze just when you needed it most. I spent part of the afternoon outside weeding the rose garden, and the following meditation (done in PowerPoint) was the product of the experience, several hours later:

• How to Weed a Garden: A Meditation on Belonging to and Honoring the Earth
  
  
• If you'd rather take a look on Scribd (instead of downloading it to your computer), click here. It won't include the animated features, but you'll still get the idea.

I hope you're having a rich, lovely holiday weekend wherever in this world--or any other world--you are. Namaste. :)

The solid nature of love

This morning early, as I was quietly beginning the day, I heard the thought "love never dies" in my head, and I was curious about it. I know that the world shows us otherwise, with conflict and breakups and people sometimes doing less-than-honorable things to each other. But as I made my bed, I thought about the people I have loved and have been loved by--some continue in my life, and some do not. I thought of my dad (the second anniversary of his death is next Monday), and realized that even though I still miss him, the feeling of love is still there inside--stronger than ever, really--real and solid.

I invite you to take a few quiet moments today to reflect on people, experiences, places, and ideas you have truly loved. Sense where that love for them is in your body, explore it in your being. Find it and know it's there. Maybe you will discover, like I did, that the love truly does remain, whether the recipient of your love is in your daily life right now or not...love is real, love is solid, love grows and remains forever. Like a collection of beautiful pearls--or an indescribably exquisite castle--love builds within us and around us always, never diminishing, never fading.

What a nice thing to know!

This is the day

...when anything and everything is possible. I feel it. What is that loving desire, that baby of an intention, that is taking shape in your heart just now? Turn and open your eyes wide, beloved, and let the image arise...feel it glow and shine within you...and at just the right moment, filled with gratitude, plant it in the soil of your life, knowing that it is for this moment you have come, the dream is yours to realize, and all of creation--this one Great Soul we share--is waiting for it to blossom.

The blessing is so big there's nothing you can say but "Thanks," whispered, with awe.

I am grateful to the earth

by Pablo Neruda, from the poem This Is Where We Live*

I am grateful to the earth
for having waited
for me
when sky and sea came together
like two lips touching;
for that's no small thing, no?--
to have lived
through one solitude to arrive at another,
to feel oneself many things and recover wholeness.

I love all the things there are,
and of all fires
love is the only inexhaustible one;
and that's why I go from life to life,
from guitar to guitar,
and I have no fear
of light or shade,
and almost being earth myself,
I spoon away at infinity.

Perfect, perfect, perfect.

* Stavans, Ilan, ed. 2003. The Poetry of Pablo Neruda, 480-481, NY: Farrar, Straus & Giroux.

It's not a secret

Grace is the deepest reality.

The point at which all things meet

A big little thought this morning: Today is a coming together of all roads within your very own soul. All people you have ever known or been, all places you have ever visited or lived or thought about, all experiences you have had and have yet to have, come together in you in perfect harmony. All deeds, acts, smiles, hopes, fears, relationships, experiences, dreams, joys, and sorrows are the unique imprint your soul has made, is making, and will make upon this earth and all beings who are part of this One Soul.

Love your story today, and feel the richness you bring to this very moment. You are the point at which all things meet, and that reality, true for each and all of us, can only bless forever.

The task today

Our task today, I think, is

To load paper in the printer,
straight and uniform,
having tap-tapped it into a perfect white rectangle,
almost feeling the coolness of the gray, two-toned plastic
against the side of our hand
half-see the gleam of the green ready light
silently sipping its juice.
More than half-asleep, we are
lulled by the clocks and rhythms
of modern existence
when suddenly--
shockingly
and with no hope of return
a gust of wind from the forest of Borneo
leaps from the pages
we are lifted into the sway of the trees,
enfolded in a symphony of leaves,
inhaled into the fresh, moist, loamy earth.
We rise rise rise above the canopy to azure blue skies
we eagerly lean toward mountains, the earth's exposed roots
and awake joyfully to the memory
full of moonlight, knowing
that we once were and are
and forever more shall be
free.

Happy anniversary

Good morning, dear. In my heart this morning I overheard the angelic choir singing praises about your recent accomplishment... congratulations! Remember to take the moments you need to really celebrate your anniversary today. What, you don't remember? Today is the anniversary of the day you smelled your first flower. On this day, many years ago, you really, really felt the rain on your face for the first time. One time, decades ago, on this day, you smiled at someone not because they deserved it, but simply because they existed, because they were there, and because you are made of love.

On this day just out of reach in your memory, you did just the right thing for a person you barely knew, and that changed the whole trajectory of their path. They are happy today in love and life because of you and your unaware act. On this day Buddha smiled, Christ gave him a high five, and Lao Tzu sat under the cork tree, nodding. Everywhere you go today, dear, watch for the celebration in your wake. Trees come alive, flowers blossom, people smile, all because of you.

Dissolving separation

I received this small prayer in an e-mail newsletter this morning and it struck me how the prayer continues to reinforce the idea of separation--that God is great and "out there" and we are small and unworthy. I understand that the foundations of many traditions are in different ways based on this idea, but there are other ways (more helpful, nourishing, loving ways I think) of understanding the Divine that do not require a one-up, one-down mentality. The greatness of Universal Love and Light, the essence of all being, the love that loves you, expresses through you in beautiful, colorful, and varied ways, the unlimited creativity, freedom, and choices in your day. Through you, the Divine blesses, plans, works, laughs, cries. Through you, in you, and with you, more light comes into the world. Through you and with you--and in the world of your creating, because of you--God smiles and loves and laughs.

Here is how I would revise this prayer, from a perspective that does not separate, but joins. I am sure Divine Love receives both poems with great love, but listen to how one prayer lifts the person praying, while the other reinforces the idea of separation from God (which hurts...and isn't real):

You Give Me Strength / You Are Our Source

Anonymous author

Lord God, thank You for loving me / Lord God, thank you for loving us
Even when I turn away from You. / Your love shines through us in every moment, blessing each and all
I am grateful for Your constant care and concern. / So close we are One, we gratefully and freely share your life and love with all beings
Though I feel unworthy of Your great love, / Happy and at peace knowing we express your joy
I thank You that through my weakness / We give thanks that whether we see your greatness in our lives or not, it is there...
You give me strength, / You are our source, our all
And in my wandering You show me the way. / And in this eternal moment, we rest, love, create, and abide in you.

Amen and amen. Blessings on your day, bringing light, love, and joy into the world.

Already loved this morning

So, here you are. Nice to see you!
Sit down, relax, and tell me...
How has God loved you already today?

Love from the inside out

Spring arrived on the calendar in Indiana a few days ago, but just this morning the dogwoods realized it. Huge, white blossoms--erupting with such joy you can almost hear them--buoyed me to work this morning. I found myself thinking about joy and beauty and blossoming, and realized that it's all love, opening naturally as part of the miraculous process of life, growing, growing, growing, and sharing--ultimately fulfilling the purpose of adding to the Alleluia! of life.

The dogwoods are definitely singing this morning.

I thought, too, of how hard we work at love, perhaps at first fighting it; then allowing it; then abandoning ourselves to it (alleluia!)...and then, for many, challenges, hurts, perhaps a feeling of loss, betrayal, disappointment...

The dogwoods could not/would not have blossomed earlier this week, on the day spring arrived by calendar. You could have stood beside them yelling "Wake up! You're supposed to be blooming now!" but it wouldn't have made any difference. They don't know about calendars and expectations. They don't respond to judgment--as far as I know--for when and how and where they blossom. When it's just time, perhaps they feel it with a delicious sense of readiness, increasing joy, and then...blossoming alleluia!

Love for us bipeds might be easier if we let the natural course of life and love flow within her own banks (which are in reality limitless). If we just for a moment relax our tendency to grab and make and push and evaluate; if we could simply take a deep and filling breath and receive, opening our eyes and minds and hearts; trust, joy, and celebration would be our natural blossoming, our Alleluia!.

I'm just going to let myself blossom naturally today, in whatever timing love and life presents. How about you?

A pebble for your pocket

When I was a little girl (okay, I still do it sometimes today) I used to gather small stones, just picking up tiny little red, cream, and smokey gray ones and putting them in my pocket, carrying them with me wherever I went. This evidence of my loving wonder of the mystery and beauty of the natural world was a comfort...I could feel the stones at the ends of my fingertips during difficult schoolwork, when schedules were full, when parents were agitated. Little pebbles of peace, my unfailing connection to the natural world.

This morning I have a little pebble thought for you to carry in your pocket as you go about your day. I think it is worth touching again and again, turning over and over until it becomes a part of you:

This does not end, and there is no that.

Amen and amen. Enjoy the beauty all around today...it's for you! :)

La bella luna and the realm of all possibility

This morning I took the dogs out very early in the pre-dawn darkness. As we walked along the edge of the forest, I was aware of a sense of life preparing, ready to spill over with new growth and beauty. I could smell it--the scent of spring. Here in Indiana any minute now the redbuds, dogwoods, and pear trees will begin to erupt joyfully. I can't wait!

I looked up at the stars and realized there was not a single thing obstructing the way between us. I looked directly at stars and they looked at me. I turned and looked at the moon. Even looking through the trees, I saw the moon clearly, and it saw me. Our connection was uninterrupted. No buildings, no rules, no delays, no "sometdays", no financial obstacles, no limitation at all came between me and the moon and the stars.

This was a profound realization! If an ordinary human being has a direct link to the celestial bodies, what joy and peace and comfort are ours! If a sometimes struggling, sometimes forgetful, but loved child of God has an indestructible and neverfailing link to his or her beloved Divine Parent, what security and joy and love are always there for us!
Look up and in today, and reach for that feeling of transcendence deep within your soul. It is there, and strong as ever. Soon it will blossom in God's love with the fresh breezes of spring.

Reflections

This morning early, before the sun, I took the dogs outside. As I stood on the frozen grass trying to convince myself I wasn't freezing, suddenly something bright and orange and shining caught my eye. It was the reflection of the porch light in Edgar's ID tag. It flashed once, twice, and then it was gone.

Driving back from taking Cameron to school a few minutes ago, the rising orange sun edged up over the trees and bathed the faces of houses with a brilliant light. As I passed by, I noticed that looking straight on at the houses, I couldn't see the reflection in the same way. There is something about being in the right place at the right time in order to witness the awesome nature of that reflected light.

It's a precious thing, the ability to be awake and aware, capturing the reflected light of creation in a sparkling moment of awe. Whether you have the chance to see light caught in a two dollar dog tag, shining from the windows of passing office buildings, or gleaming out at you from the eyes of one you love today, recognize the soul-expanding gift of your witness and whisper a small thanks.

When someone you love is hurting

In this economic time, people all over the world are praying for guidance, hoping for security and stablity in a time that seems to be pitching and swaying like a boat on turbulent waters. Watching the world markets rise and fall, hearing the headlines filled with alternating hopeful and then discouraging stories of revenue reports, job losses, housing markets, and bailouts does not help us find a sense of peace and calm. We all know people who are anxious and worried--maybe to the point of exhaustion, illness, or utter hopelessness--and perhaps we are sometimes those people ourselves!

A phrase that has been arising in my mind and heart a lot lately is "It is for this time we have come." (This comes to me from the story of Esther, when Mordecai encourages Queen Esther to speak on behalf of her people to the king.) I think that phrase has a lot to do with the hope borne in this country and catalyzed by the Obama presidency, but it also reflects our response to the needs of our earth, the globalization of our community, and our search for meaning and purpose. It is for this time we have come. We have gifts, talents, love, compassion, vision, connection, faith, and energy to invest. Perhaps right now we don't feel we have a lot of money. But there's much to give and receive. It is still an abundant universe.

Today Hazelden's Today's Gift e-mail offered something that was clear and simple and uplifting, and I'd like to pass it along. The idea is from Douglas Bloch's book Listening to Your Inner Voice(I'm paraphrasing):

When someone we love is hurting, we may not be able to make the problem go away (we each have to do our own inner work, after all), but there are very definite ways we can help support our loved one as he or she seeks peace, guidance, and change: (1)We can affirm that there's a purpose behind the situation--it is here to bring some kind of healing or it wouldn't be happening; (2) We can imagine her surrounded by love and light, protected and embraced with goodness (this is true because God is Love); and (3) we can know that that the God is with her, right now, in this circumstance, and wants the best and most loving thing for her. All is truly well.

Welcome your blessing as you love and hope and walk in faith today. It is for this time we have come. The love that sustains, leads, and accompanies us will not let us down.

Happy Friday!

Overflowing Good

This morning as I was getting ready for work, I was thinking about the 23rd Psalm, and the deep comfort it offers us in times like these. Specifically the words, "Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies; thou annointest my head with oil; my cup overflows..." has a huge amount of resonance for me (for some reason when I reflect on this Psalm especially I always hear the old English in my head).

Instead of outer "enemies," in my life I recognize that thoughts of worry, fear, and anxiety about the future are the obstacles that keep me from recognizing the presence and power of God in this very moment. God is annointing our heads with blessings--countless blessings--right now. Are we receiving them? How are those blessings running over into our lives? Where are the blessings we receive flowing naturally beyond any limits and spreading out to bless others through our day?

I love the idea that we can notice where our cup is already overflowing and it will give our hearts courage and our minds peace. God is working right now, and somewhere in your life, your blessings are overflowing. I invite you to notice where, say thanks, and relax and let God do the blessing! That's what I'm going to try to do today. :)

If Wendell Berry were on Twitter...

I recently started posting to a Twitter account (it appears here, to the right, and on my business site, reVisions Plus). My intention was to find out what all the excitement was about and determine whether Twitter was a helpful tool to add to the social networking/online communications system we're creating at the nonprofit where I work (KDP). I enjoy the short, brief, "You are here" kinds of posts, and I like hearing what others are doing in bite-sized chunks.

It occurred to me just now, as I updated my Twitter feed, noticing the icicle across the yard melting so quickly it is dropping a near-constant stream of water on the ground, that I would love to read Wendell Berry's Twitter posts. They would surely point to the sacred in a pure, crystaline way, like the thinnest skiff of ice on the surface of a flowing stream.

Each word has power and clarity. Every phrase is its own living image, stirring your mind and heart, calling your own memories into the sunlight. Behind the imagery and the rhythm is a swirling essence that makes you glad you've surfaced at precisely this moment, with the soul-nourishing task of reading a Wendell Berry poem. He would Twitter about the catch of the light just now on that disappearing icicle. He would tell me about the face of the finch peering in just before finding the filled feeder. And he would wrap it all up in the arms of a natural world so vast and solid and eternal that I wouldn't need to worry about anything for the rest of the day.

I'm looking forward to the day Wendell Berry begins to Twitter, but I realize I may wait a long time. He's busy on the farm, at the desk, describing the steam of the morning and the easing of the day. :)

Forgiveness is freedom

This morning after I dropped my son off at school I was driving through the snow-covered countryside, waiting for the sun to begin brightening the day. A thought occurred to me that I want to pass along: Maybe forgiveness is as simple as releasing the negative mental image we hold of another person.

It's the difference between rejecting the person ("he is so rude!") and naming the behavior ("boy, that was a rude comment"). When forgiveness arises, we realize that the image we were holding about that person isn't the full truth--there may be another, truer way we can see the person. We can say a quick prayer and ask to see the person as God sees him or her. That makes all the difference and things shift--because where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. :)

Asking for this mental freedom also gives our thoughts the breathing room to show us when we're actually projecting our own stuff onto the other person--maybe it's our own image we're seeing, pointing out places in us that are ripe for inner work in self-love and acceptance.

Just because we are

This morning as I was driving in to work I was thinking about my dogs, Georgie and Edgar, and how they must just sleep all day while I'm at work. I wondered what they think about, whether they talk to each other, what their inner days look like. From that thought I wandered into a sense of grateful appreciation for their presence--they add so much to my life!

Thinking of how much I value them and how much richness and love they add to our home, it occurred to me that I don't expect them to "do" anything in order to earn my love. Oh, sure, please don't pee on the carpet, Edgar. But overall, they don't have to work; they don't have to perform tasks; I simply love them for their presence, because they are.

If we are capable of that kind of love and appreciation for our fellow beings just because they are, is it such a stretch to think that what God loves most about us is not the amount of effort we expend in being Good (or how successful we may or may not be) but rather the fact of our being, that we are companions in this life, that we share this sacred moment and recognize and appreciate what we have? Sometimes I get these little glimpses and think this life of faith is probably much easier than I make it. Walk in the garden with God today. Or snore contentedly, sleeping in God's arms. Or muse about what you'll have for lunch with a glance toward the Divine, knowing that all Good is ours just because we are and because of whose we are.

Increasing the Light

Good morning! And welcome to the upside of the year. :) This morning at 7:04 am (EST) you may have slept (or sipped coffee) through the Winter Solstice. Now, thankfully, the light will increase, the nights will get shorter, the days longer. We have successfully navigated the darkest point of the year and are on our way to increasing light. I'm ready for that! :)

To celebrate the Winter Solstice, I offer the lyrics to a song I wrote back in 1995. My original vision was to invite the congregation to sing it during the candlelight portion of a Christmas Eve service, when the people in the pews turn and light the candles of the people next to them. (I love that.) If you'd like the music, e-mail me and I'll send it to you.

Light My Way

Light my way
Let your brightness guide my life
Light my way,
Illuminate my night
For the winter winds blow cold
And sometimes
I must walk alone
Light my way
Christ be born in me.

Light my way
Let forgiveness fill my heart
Light my way
Father, let the healing start
For the hurt that we endure
Is healed in love forevermore
Light my way
Christ be born in me.

CHORUS
Ever the light shines on
Carries the life, carries the song
Oh let the light shine on in me.

Light my way
Wrap our world in arms of peace
Light my way
Blessed Son, for our release
Let us look through eyes of love
to meet your children, one and all
In His name
Christ be born in me.

May the light of Christ consciousness, the indestructible Love of God, and the hope and joy of life everlasting be ours as we grow in grace and understanding, sharing the Light we already are. Amen. :)

Eve's lack of abundance mentality

Earlier this week I received the update from Kabbalah.com and found a really interesting idea that had never occurred to me before. I studied Genesis in seminary and was particularly drawn (still am) to the idea of us being made in God's image and likeness. I focused several projects on that idea and find that I continue to work with it in my own study and my daily life. If we accept ourselves as being truly made in God's image and likeness, what would that look like in our lives? I think if we could get a sense of our true, indestructible, unchangable oneness with God and with each other, everything in our inner lives and outer lives would balance in perfect peace. We face temptations daily--hourly!--to believe we are mere plodding flawed and sinful mortals. In our days, will we look for evidence that we are blessed or cursed? Will we celebrate the good gifts we've received or clamor in fear to try and fill the lack we are tempted to believe is real?

The idea from Kabbalah.com was that Eve's big mistake was in getting caught up in focusing on what she didn't have. I think that's a fascinating idea! Here was Eve, in paradise, walking and talking with God every day, sharing her life with a man who was made for her (literally), and she gets tempted to think that she somehow lacked something she needed. She's vulnerable to the promptings of the snake because a thought had taken hold in her mind that said there was more she needed, could have, had to have in order to be happy.

This Thanksgiving, my wish for us all is that we take our eyes off that one gleaming thing we want so badly--whether it's an apple, a nest egg, a new home, a relationship, or even better health--and look around at the richness of the paradise already here. Do you have love in your life? Is there pleasure in your day? Can you breathe, walk, connect with others--via phone, voice, Internet, or thought? Can you feel God in your day? Wouldn't it be great if we could grab hold of the richness of our blessings this holiday and really, really celebrate them? We truly have unlimited goodness to be thankful for. This year, more than ever before, I pray we will fully receive and give thanks for it, in a way that makes the angels sing with joy!

Wishing you peace and joy--and a loving, light-filled Thanksgiving!

Silence praying

Ah, the last stanza of "How to be a poet" from one of my all-time favorite poets, Wendell Berry. The whole poem is worth reading at least half a dozen times (slowly, leisurely, in time with your breath). Find it today at Writer's Almanac:

Accept what comes from silence.
Make the best you can of it.
Of the little words that come
out of the silence, like prayers
prayed back to the one who prays,
make a poem that does not disturb
the silence from which it came.

Beautiful.

Waiting in faith

Lately it seems I have had many experiences in which I have to step forward in faith and then, trusting, wait for good (God) to show up. I'm sure God's already there (and here), but my eyes need to adjust to the change in light. Maybe that's a core experience for many of us. This poem from Writer's Almanac this morning reminded me of the quiet gleaming reality of love as it exists even now, especially now, as the world around us seems to churn and struggle.

The Patience of Ordinary Things
by Pat Schneider

It is a kind of love, is it not?
How the cup holds the tea,
How the chair stands sturdy and foursquare,
How the floor receives the bottoms of shoes
Or toes. How soles of feet know
Where they're supposed to be.
I've been thinking about the patience
Of ordinary things, how clothes
Wait respectfully in closets
And soap dries quietly in the dish,
And towels drink the wet
From the skin of the back.
And the lovely repetition of stairs.
And what is more generous than a window?

"The Patience of Ordinary Things" by Pat Schneider from Another River: New and Selected Poems. © Amherst Writers and Artists Press, 2005.

A Prayer for the Care of Animals

Dear God, precious creator of all beings loved, lovely, and loving, we ask your tender care, support, protection, and healing for all the animals who are our companions and helpers; our protectors and angels; our friends and family. Please bless all those who care for these blessed ones and help us all, together and individually, to express the compassion, tenderness, dignity, and oneness of all creation. Thank you for shaping thought and opening hearts and eyes to the need for care for all animals. May we all continue to awaken into a sacred reverence for life and relationship in all its beautiful, varied, and amazing forms. In thanks and wonder, seeking peace for all, we pray. Amen.

News stories inspiring this prayer:

• From CNN [10-21-08]: “A $15 million veterinary hospital for four-legged military personnel opened Tuesday at Lackland Air Force Base, offering a long overdue facility that gives advanced medical treatment for combat-wounded dogs. Dogs working for all branches of the military and the Transportation Safety Administration are trained at the base to find explosive devices, drugs and land mines. Some 2,500 dogs are working with military units.”
  
  
• From the Christian Science Monitor [10-17-08]: “America's horse-racing industry is trying to clean up its image with a new high-profile overseer and promises of voluntary certification for tracks that meet tough standards…Reform of the tradition-bound $40 billion industry will be a daunting task. The sport is trying to change behaviors of owners, breeders, trainers, jockeys, and track operators across 38 different state racing jurisdictions.”

Elliott's Elegy

Purring lapmate,
paws spreading, pushing,
curling claws against my chin
(gently, lightly drawing caution,
like goosebumps,
to the surface)
curling like a baby
snuggled on your back.
What or who will take your place?
The siamese yowl,
a surprising voice,
chattering in conversation.
Who will ever sound the same?
The paws beneath the door
when we were separated,
however briefly,
by the artifice of the material world;
they now remind me
how blessed I am and was,
and am,
how blessed were you,
and are you now,
to have shared time and space in love
with no boundaries of species,
doors, language, or claws,
to ever separate us.

Problems Aren't Curses

This morning, driving back from the emergency vet where I just signed a $1,000 estimate for Elliott's possble immediate care expenses, I asked God to help me see this overwhelming and scary situation in the right light. In the midst of a world pitching and swaying in financial crisis, I am working for a nonprofit organization and trying to weather in my own small business the belt tightening many of my clients have undergone. I don't know what else to do but pray, love, work with integrity, and do my best to honor my commitments. And my commitments are promises of love--promises to care tenderly for all life, promises to honor my word, promises to do my best to be honest with myself and engaged with my world, trusting God and others and myself to bring forth, sooner or later, the harmony that is the ground of all being.

As I prayed for calm and light, it occurred to me that problems, when they open up in our lives like huge potholes, do not mean we aren't blessed. It's a very human thing--the mark of a rational mind--to look for cause and effect, to wonder why something is happening, and to investigate the how so that we can perhaps make ourselves safer in the future and avoid it happening again. On one level this is practical and understandable. On another level, it can be self-negating and dangerous. If I interpret problems as signs that I have done something wrong, that I have fallen from God's favor, that I've had too many blessings and now have to take some bad stuff on the chin, what does that say about my thoughts of God? Is God love or not? Is God all-powerful, all-capable, all-present, or not? Does God send us challenges and problems and scary situations to test our mettle, to "teach us a lesson," or to otherwise stir up our lives so we have to turn to God more fully?

This is not the God I know--it may be a fearful mask lurking in my own subconscious that I sometimes attribute to "fate" or "chance" or "misfortune," but it is not God. It is not the face of a loving God that constricts Elliott's heart or causes him to labor for breath. It is not the face of a loving God that causes circumstances that threaten my family's financial security. It is not the face of a loving God that brings unhappy events, scary situations, or wounds that take years to heal.

Where they come from or why they come I do not know. But both from my time as a chaplain and from my own experience of tragedy in my own life, I do know this: God is present in the midst of any circumstance in our lives. God is accessible, reachable, now. When Jesus and the disciples encountered the blind man and they asked, "Who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?" Jesus took the question out of the realm of cause and effect, moving it completely away from the why and the how, and put it fully in the square of the what: Now the glory of God can be known.

So Elliott's heart began to fail this morning--my sweet, tender, loving Elliott who still curls up purring beside me in the chair at night (he's the kitty in my profile photo)--and God is with us both. Good people at two vets helped; timing worked so we could get him in; I noticed early signs; and now he's stable and resting quietly, getting great care and under observation all day. There's a lot of Providence at work in that situation. I trust God to handle the finances too. In this moment, I don't know how it will all work out, but I do know there's a harmony at work here somewhere. God's glory will show up.

In chaplaincy training, I learned that "crisis" means literally, "danger" plus "opportunity." Our problems--financial, health, relationship, work, emotional--can be scary and panic-inducing, taking us to the edge of our resources and leaving us wondering how to cope. But rather than interpreting problems as signs that we've done something wrong or have fallen from God's favor, we can hold the space for faith and watch carefully for God to show up. God will, because that's God's nature--to never leave us comfortless.

Peace to you, to Elliott, and to me, and may we individually and collectively feel the presence of God today in very real and transforming ways.

You Are Dear to Me

Looking for a simple, compassionate exercise you can do right at your desk this afternoon? Try this:

Each time you begin an e-mail to someone today, when you type "Dear Rob" (sub your own person's name there), stop a minute and think of that person's face and then say in your heart, "dear Rob..." as God might say it.

We are each and all precious to God and at the center of God's affections, right this very moment. Expressing the dearness of the person you're writing to, whether you're ordering light bulbs, editing an article, or writing to complain about something, puts you in tune with God and part of the shine of love radiating from a benevolent universe.

Try it and see how it instantly softens the energy in your office, dear reader. :)

Morning Prayer

O God, our God, my God

With a grateful heart, I dedicate this day to You.
May all moments be ours together to create and bless,
may love radiate naturally from all events and circumstances,
may your peace be at the simple center of all that occurs.

May all my thoughts arise gently from a knowing of true and eternal love and safety in You.

And may the thoughts, words, and actions of my own life this day contribute to the happiness and freedom of all.

Amen.

Awareness: An Owner's Manual

I just created a new book called Awareness: An Owner's Manual that offers ideas and meditations on our personal awareness--one of the greatest gifts we have for increasing peace, harmony, and compassion in our lives and our world. Along with the flow of the text, I've included the voices of some of my favorite teachers (Rumi, Thomas Merton, Fred Rogers, Thich Nhat Hahn, Deepak Chopra, Pema Chodron, Douglas Steere, and more). It's available in print format or electronic download. Click here for a preview, and if you take a look, post a comment and let me know what you think! :)

Light, Shadow, and Reflection

The light bulb by the back door burned out yesterday, and when I took the dogs outside early this morning, while it was still dark, only the light on the back of the house illumined the backyard stretching to the woods. I stood with them in lighted area, looking up beyond the spotlight to Orion's Belt, listening to crickets. Gorgeous.

As we walked back to the house, we left the illumined area and stepped into the dark. I was very aware of that moment, leaving the light and entered the dark area. But then something unexpected happened; my eyes instantly adjusted and I saw a different light--the moon--lighting our way from behind. I saw clearly our shadows as we walked to the back door. I was amazed to find that it wasn't dark at all.

Now I'm sitting at my desk at work, and all is quiet (most people aren't in yet). I noticed as I turned into our parking lot that the sun was just beginning to come up. The windows of my office face east, but my desk faces west, and I thought how nice it would be to be able to really see the beautiful pink-and-orange sunrise. But right here, across the room from me, I see the sunrise reflected on the wall. Orange light frames the shape of the trees just outside my window. It's almost the same experience as seeing my own shadow by moonglow. Beautiful.

How wonderfully kind and loving is it of our God to always provide the light we need in every circumstance. Even when things seem dark; even when we think we might be missing out; even when we don't know where the light might come from or think we've lost it entirely, God's Light is shining on and for and in us, illumining the way, give us continual beauty, peace, and joy.

Prayer for Financial Stability

“Cast all your care upon Him; for He cares for you…” —1 Peter 5:7


The waves are rolling today, Lord, threatening to overturn our small boat. Storms are making landfall; financial markets are pitching and swaying. Those we have turned to for security and balance look like they are going under the waves. What can we do? To whom will we turn? You alone hold all creation, all thought, all truth in your hands. You are governing your entire creation perfectly, flawlessly, continually, in this very moment. Help us to see the balance and stability. Help us to hold to our knowledge of you as All Good, caring for us tenderly, as a mother cares for a child. Give us the strength of mind, the presence of soul, the calm of spirit, to turn to you in all things. And when we are too weak to turn on our own or too scared to open our eyes, help us to feel you here, God, with your arm around our shoulders and your Love lighting the path ahead.


Just for today, let’s take a deep breath, even as the world pitches and sways around us. With each inward breath, we can affirm that God is Good. With each exhale, we can release our fear for the future, unhelpful images of lack, and worries about security and health. As we exhale, we can set those ideas free to be dissolved in God’s goodness and care. God truly gives us what we need. As we breathe in the goodness of God, new light and reassurance will come to us. We know it’s true because God loves us with a perfect Love. Try it and see.



PS. Here’s an article I found helpful on this topic: Finding solid ground in a stormy economy [by Ned Odegaard, on Spirituality.com]

A Simple Prayer

I read somewhere that our bodies are made new every seven years--our cells, muscles, and tissues have all regenerated themselves and been replaced in the preceding seven years. This means that physically we have all progressed, grown, and been made new since this heartbreaking and tragic day seven years ago. Old things have passed away, and new life has come to pass. Brokenness has begun to reveal new growth. Desolation and destruction have been seed--what have they produced in our lives, in our world?

I'm not sure how we can ever really heal from September 11, 2001, in the way we can never truly heal--as in return to the way things were before--the loss of a loved one, the shift of a life, the death of a dream. Today, sitting here at my desk, I feel such deep sadness for the families whose lives were changed forever on this day seven years ago. I still mourn for our country--for the loss of the perception of safety and the acts of anger and aggression that were borne of our pain. We move forward, limping and leaning on each other, unsure of what lies ahead and unable to make sense of what lies behind.

I do not know in any human way how we can heal from the pain caused by acts of desperation, but I do trust that God sees, loves, and holds all our thoughts, acts, experiences--our whole world--in a sense of harmony, peace, and goodness. Sometimes my limited view and understanding, and my struggle with the pain, make it hard to see goodness where such anguish still exists, but I know God has a truer view, the only real Big Picture, and that in God's time and in God's perfect way, comfort comes, healing spreads, new growth arises.

It's been seven years. Scientists say we are new in body. May God give us fresh eyes to see, know, feel, and live fully from a sense of newness in soul.

Peace and comfort today, wherever you find yourself, knowing you are safe in God's care.

Growing in tune with the seasons

Today I'm in a preparing-for-fall mood, feeling the coolness of the air, noticing the slight changing of the colors of the trees. Internally, there's a sense of nesting, which I particularly love. Each year September is an important month for me, a time of new beginnings and a celebration of all the inner growth from the previous year. I was thinking about arriving in September again, along with this idea of living in tune with the seasons, and I noticed that, for me, each month has a kind of correlation to the inner spiritual growth and learning that's happening for me through the year. I guess I am in tune with the seasons, more than I knew! Here's a kind of playful calendar for inner work that connects to the seasons of nature (at least in the part of the world where I live):

September: Decide where in your inner and outer life you want to learn and grow next.
October: Harvest the learning and growth you’ve done over the summer.
November: Share your bounty with others and say thanks.
December: Celebrate hope, vision, love, healing, new light, growing consciousness.
January: Start fresh in a relationship, a project, or your understanding of yourself and relation to God.
February: Practice unconditional love toward all beings—whether they are hibernating or not. :)
March: Love the winds of change and open to all possibilities. Life is bringing you good things.
April: Let the seeds of hope, vision, growth, and consciousness be planted (and don’t be afraid to shed a few tears; they enrich the soil).
May: Witness, participate in, and celebrate the euphoric, exploding abundance of your early growth!
June: Tend your growing lovingly, feeding and watering (and appreciating) as needed.
July: Intentionally weed out the thoughts, opinions, and actions that can hold back or delay your growing.
August: Notice how far you’ve come! The season is almost complete. Continue to nourish your growth by caring for it with water, food, shade, and love. Begin thinking of ways to celebrate it at harvest.

How is your life in tune with the seasons? I'd love to hear, if you want to post a comment and share your thoughts.

Namaste, friends. :)

God's Happy Love

Catherine of Sienna said it all this morning in this quote from her Letters:

If you live every day with respect for others, God's happy love will be your best friend.

Wonderful! Blessings on your day, :) k

Buddhist Proverbs

I got Pema Chodron's Getting Unstuck audiobook from the library yesterday and today after I dropped Cameron off at school I listened to the first part of the first CD. She has such a lovely voice, lyrical and gentle with humor and space. Her words and thoughts and teachings are grounded in such a moving sense of self-awareness and self-acceptance; I found myself wanting to listen just for that loving blessing of the sound of gracious openness, a type of beautiful music.

Visiting her site led me on to other Buddhist teachings, and I found her referenced on this site, along with a huge list of Buddhist proverbs written in the 12th century. The site displays how each of several teachers of Buddhist thought phrase the various proverbs. This captured my imagination and I decided that for my own learning I would create a PowerPoint presentation of the various proverbs, to cycle through on my laptop as a screensaver. What a great way to fit awareness and spiritual practice in with my work! :)

So, just in case you're interested in the same thing, here a link to the simple presentation. Be forewarned--it's long; I think there are close to 70 slides. But don't work too hard at taking it all in; just let it wash over you, like cool mist on a mountain walk. :)

Buddhist proverbs
PowerPoint 1997-2003 version

Note: For some reason the file isn't running automatically as a PowerPoint show, so if the PowerPoint file opens on your computer, just press F5 to start the slide show.

So True

Well, I have to admit this quote of Thomas Merton's is a little deflating for people like me who try to put words--emotions, images, something--on the tiny transformative spark that occurs when faith, heart, and consciousness come together:

No writing on the solitary meditative dimensions of life can say anything that has not already been said better by the wind in the pine trees.

Thomas Merton. Honorable Reader. Robert E. Daggy, editor. New York: The Crossroad Publishing Company, 1991: 91

Today I have the windows open in the sunroom (it was only 59 degrees this morning when I woke up! Wonderful!) and I'm sitting here listening to the wind in the forest as I write. The trees, the locusts, and the voices of children on the school playground a quarter of a mile away all mix together to make the most delightful music proclaiming the goodness of God, the wonder of life, and the real and inexhaustible hope that keeps us loving each other and envisioning a healed world. What else is there to say? We can only listen, receive, and offer our breathless thanks.


Note: To subscribe to the Merton Institute's Weekly Reflection (which is how I received this Merton quote today), go to https://www.mertoninstitute.org/weekly_reflections.php and click Subscribe Now on the right.

Listening & Guidance

It occurred to me this morning--after an exciting, jam-packed, creative week--that the most profound change and deepening in my spiritual life over the last 10 year has not come about because I did more, understood more, or prayed more. It wasn't the books I read (although those certainly helped), the situations I lived (although at each place I found God right there in the midst of it), or thousands upon thousands of prayers, actions, and thoughts that went streaming to the Loving Presence I know as God. Rather, the big inner shift, the opening, the deepening, the enriching happened when all the outer striving and trying and working and acting ceased, and I began to notice a need for listening more. Just a quiet, open, gentle space, where I listened quietly and in love for whatever God would or wouldn't say to my heart. The listening became the prayer, the act, the communion, the point. It is a refreshment like nothing else, a moment of gathering in beauty in the Garden. I highly recommend it, whether you use something like the Centering Prayer (here's a great site for that) or the Jesus Prayer or the simple and beautiful Quaker method of silent worship. Take even the smallest moment and just breathe with God. There's no refreshment like it, and from that still centered spot in the core of your being, everything else begins to blossom. :)

The Gift of Perfect Peace

The other day Ruby (my 22-month-old granddaughter) was here spending the day with me (which is joy enough) and we had just finished running a bunch of errands. As we turned onto our street, Ruby nodded off to sleep, her arms and legs hanging limp in her car seat, her little head snuggled against the padded cushion. Earlier in the afternoon, we'd spent more than an hour "trying" to go to sleep at naptime (which for Ruby means repeatedly playing the music on her Fisher Price aquarium, singing to herself, and saying "Mama-Dada-Nana" like a mantra). As an active almost-two-year-old, she's fascinated with everything and has lots of good ideas and really doesn't want to give it all up and go to sleep. (I can identify--when I was little, I used to stretch out on my babysitter's bed and sing "These Boots Are Made for Walkin!" at the top of my lungs instead of taking a nap. I guess that dates me, doesn't it?!)

When Ruby slipped off to this peaceful sleep, I knew this was precious time--and a rest she really needed. Come to think of it, maybe I did, too. It was a beautiful day; I parked the car in the garage, rolled down all the windows, left the sunroof open, and enjoyed the breeze, the goldfinches I could see in my rear view mirror, and my sweet, sleeping grandbaby for an entire hour. What did I do? Simply enjoyed the time, loved her, thanked God.

It was the best rest I've had all week! Wonderful. May you find surprising gifts of respite in your day as well.

Singing Thanks

Yesterday I wrote this in a note to a dear friend, and the thought and feeling has stayed with me, so I thought I'd share it here: "In the moments when I feel most awake and present, I get a sense that all creation—-literally all creation—-is singing Thanks! to God. When I am really here without defense, projection, or pretense, I am singing it, too."

Really Sing It today! Countless angels are your backup singers. :)

Living Gratitude

Yesterday afternoon my sons and I spent two hours in the waiting room of a MedCheck while my oldest son found out about chest pains that had begun earlier in the afternoon. Ordinarily this wouldn't be the best place for contemplation--the waiting room was full, my older son was grim and concerned; my younger son was anxious about a school project due today. The fear that usually accompanies an event like this for me wasn't present--I knew from Christopher's voice and color and breathing that all was reasonably well (although I did feel it was important to have his symptoms checked out because my dad had heart problems). After two EKGs and lots of listening, the doctor told Christopher he had strained a muscle in his chest, just above his heart. Nothing a few Ibuprophen and a couple of days' rest can't fix.

While we waited, I read an old book by the Dalai Lama that I found at the library last weekend: Kindness, Clarity, and Insight. The book is a compilation of lectures he gave the U.S. 20 years ago, and they are wonderful, simple, and clear.

In the midst of this experience, the Dalai Lama's voice and thoughts washed soothingly over me. He wrote about compassion, compassion for all beings. This type of compassion is not simple empathy but a kind of love and gratitude that begins within a heightened awareness of our own blessing. He suggests we remember a great kindness someone in our life has done for us--perhaps a parent, a spouse, a sibling, a friend. Then we allow our gratitude for that great kindness to shine brightly within us. Soon we respond to others with that same sense of gratitude, a thank-full approach for the blessing they are bringing into our lives. And from this ever-growing underground stream of gratitude, true compassion pours out naturally--beginning with my thankfulness for you, I want happiness for you and as well as health, freedom, creativity, joy, and love. When I act from compassion, it is because the idea of us as two separate beings has dissolved and I recognize that as you love, I love; as you hurt, I hurt; as you seek peace, I seek peace.

May we flourish in the true compassion that arises from the grateful Heart of all being.

Pray without ceasing...for all beings

The Abbey of Gethsemani is continuing its gentle shaping influence on my heart and life. Since my visit there in late May (I attended a wonderful writing retreat at Bethany Spring), I have been immersing myself in Thomas Merton's faith and thought. Because he has such a strong, clear voice in his writing (and so honest!), I wanted to hear the sound of his voice as it really was. The director of Bethany Spring pointed me to a link on their site, and then I wanted more, so I searched YouTube and found a few "videos" (really audio with photos) someone has uploaded. The first link I clicked on was Merton teaching new postulant monks about the Jesus Prayer. I'd never heard of this prayer before and it seemed too simple to be very effective, at first, but then, listening to Merton's teachings, I realized the transcendent power--the Holy Spirit is praying with you when you pray this prayer.

I realize this is a big concept and probably something that should be covered in a book as opposed to a blog post, but I have been praying with the Jesus Prayer for a while and it is truly a transforming and loving and powerful prayer. I've also just begun reading The Way of a Pilgrim, the personal spiritual journey of a 15th century Russian peasant who desperately wanted to pray without ceasing and discovered the even-then ancient tradition of the Jesus Prayer was the method that ministered to the yearning of his soul.

So what is the Jesus prayer? Simply, and heart-fully, this:

Lord Jesus Christ, son of God, have mercy on me...

Because I am learning and beginning to live with a greater awareness of Oneness, I often pray have mercy on us... or have mercy on all, or simply, have mercy. I'll write about my discoveries on the topic of "mercy" in a later post...

Yesterday it occurred to me to combine the Jesus Prayer with tonglen as I was in conversation with someone who was hurting. If you're unfamiliar with tonglen, go here. Pema Chodron, the American Buddhist nun, wrote about the practice of tonglen in her book When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times. The use of breath as prayer is part of both the Jesus Prayer and tonglen--it was a very tender and beautiful moment. And the person I was with seemed to feel a shift in the depth of struggle. A lightening occurred, and the rest of the evening seemed to be more peaceful (even with a little joy thrown in).

Note: I was hoping to share the links to the Merton teachings on the Jesus Prayer with you, but when I checked the links, the creator of the clips has taken them down. If I locate them again I'll post them here at a later time.

Be well, and may you feel, receive, and share all your blessings today! :) k

Dissolving Inhumanity

Today on the way to work, as I was merging from 69 South onto 465 West, a trucker refused to let me in. Then the car in front of him wouldn't let me in. I was surprised--this has never happened to me on the way to work before, even though I always drive in rush-hour traffic. I was dumbfounded as these drivers seemed to set their faces against me and pretend not to notice my flashing turn signal. The truck was downright aggressive about it. Finally, I was able to zip into a tiny space that opened up. I was puzzled and a bit stirred up by the experience.

I started thinking about the moments of grace that are available to us as we drive. I like to leave a relaxed amount of space between my car and the car in front of me, so other drivers feel like they can move into that space if they need to. I like the way that makes me feel as I drive--like I have more room, more time, the grace to be flexible. Other drivers ride the bumpers of the car in front of them, pushing, leaning forward, always late. I've felt that way before and I don't like it. I choose not to create that in my day, or impact others' driving experience with that kind of energy.

I got to work and glanced at the clock on my phone as my computer came to life. 8:15. I think that's the moment the bomb dropped on Hiroshima, killing 80,000 instantly, on this date in 1945. I was silent and sad for a moment, praying. Is it possible that the imprint of inhumanity--absence of grace--is left on this day? I prayed to dissolve any internal belief I carried about the "hardness" or "insensitivity" of the inflexible drivers this morning. I may not be able to do much to affect the horror and injustice people suffered on this day (and in the months and years following), but I can dedicate myself, my efforts, my thoughts, and my prayers today to dissolving the inhumanity in myself, silencing the echos of judgment and separation that are tempted to arise through me this day.

May all beings feel the stirring of Spirit and Grace today, without exception.

Relax, Martha, Relax

This week has been a whirlwind--a happy whirlwind, but a whirlwind. At home, family is visiting and we are celebrating. At work, the foundation board and the executive council are both here having multiday meetings. I am part of a three-person team at our wonderful nonprofit working to launch an exciting new initiative (which for me involves the development of new publications, a web site, and CD contents). In the midst of it all I'm trying to keep my toes dipping in the underground stream of prayer. So far, so good.

Last night after dinner and birthday cake, we all sat in the living room and talked about things near and far, past and present. We offered up things we loved and reflected on oddities and interesting awarenesses. At one point I walked into the kitchen with a stack of cake dishes and started to run the water so I could rinse them and put them in the dishwasher. But then I changed my mind, put them all in a pile in the sink, and went back into the living room to relax on the floor with my family and be part of the conversation.

It was a subtle shift and one I barely noticed. With that tiny flicker of thought, I transformed from Martha to Mary. I made that huge migration from the world of tasks, completion, and achievement to the world of connection, participation, and love. There's a lot more grace in Mary's world; more openness, room for laughter, space to breathe.

And you know what? The dishes got done. And more besides. Without effort, and floating on the good feelings of having been part of love's arising.

See? There's hope for Martha's of the world, after all. Enjoy your day!

Life comes calling

Yesterday and today I was goaded out of bed by a young male cardinal, who excitedly lights in the river birch tree outside my second story window and then flies against the window (gently, with wings fluttering awkwardly) and back to the tree branch, over and over again, 8 to 10 times. He looks into the room, turning his head from side to side, his black questioning eye probing the quiet coolness. After several repeats of his fly-against-the-window technique, he grabs the wire mesh of the window screen with his tiny claws and hangs there, suspended on the window. His call is congenial--his voice has a quieter, more collegial tone. He seems to be speaking directly to me--or to some object or other bird he's looking for--calling this being out to do something, notice, live. His action are very intentional and directed, but I don't know what expression is fueling them. Or maybe I do, but I don't--quite--believe I do.

I do know this. It's an awesome and wonderful gift, something that feels like a sacred honor, to be invited into the day by a cardinal who has seemingly discovered something worth noticing in me. Of course, I'm not sure he's really looking for me specifically. And I don't understand his language. And although I sense excitement and intentionality, these could be my own descriptors of emotion and motivation that don't have anything to do with what's going on inside him.

But he shows up, he makes the effort, he is saying something and doing something and it appears to have some connection to me, somehow. I realize how much this gift of the cardinal's presence is to me a snapshot of the gift of the presence of God. I feel God there, noticing and caring, drawing me beyond myself; but sometimes I don't understand the language, I'm fuzzy about the expectation, and I'm not really sure God meant me at all but is just loving and speaking and acting with indescriminate Love.

But, still, not knowing the meaning of the experience doesn't keep me from raising my hand from beneath the soft layers of warm, weighty covers, waving at the cardinal hanging on the screen, saying, "Good morning! Here I am! I see you!" and wondering what goodness this miraculous promise portends for this day.

May your Love awaken in you today a breathless sense of transcending mystery and the reassuring comfort that your deeper Life will come looking for you if you tarry under the covers too long.

Prayer is Freedom

Talk about a powerful phrase. What more do we need than that? I read this last night in Thomas Merton in Alaska: The Alaskan Conferences, Journals, and Letter. Prayer is freedom. Because when we turn our hearts and awareness to God, we instantly transcend anything that seems to bind or separate us. Here's how Merton puts it:

"...prayer is our real freedom. It is the liberation from the alienation that I have been talking about.

It is in prayer that we are truly and fully ourselves and we are not under any other power, authority, or domination. We have to see what that means. 'He has put all things under His feed and made Him ruler of everything, the head of the Church which is His body, the fullness of Him who fills the whole creation.' You have to spend your whole life going over and over again through a passage like this. It is the only way you can ever get anywhere with it. You don't just read it a few times and then read it with a commentary. You keep coming back to it, and maybe after fifty years of chewing on it you begin to see what it really means." (p. 113-114)

Of course, Merton is talking about cognitive understanding here, but the good news is that it's something we can leave behind as we practice the presence of God. Prayer is freedom from all illusion that tempts us to believe that there is such a thing as "not God."

Faithfully Present

I learned something new about myself yesterday. My ability (and desire) to focus quietly and simply on what's before me is increasing--so much so, in fact, that it really causes pain and stress when I feel scattered and pulled in different directions. Yesterday afternoon I noticed my increasing anxiety level when little Miss Ruby decided not to nap. How would I finish editing the manuscript I was working on? When would I be able to evaluate the new submission? I had so much I'd planned to cram in during naptime!

But napping just wasn't part of Ruby's plan yesterday, so ultimately we both just went with the flow. And I discovered something precious and important. When Ruby is here, I just want to be faithfully present with her, in love, in joy, in exploration and gratitude. When I edit, I want to be immersed in the words and the meaning, listening for the author's voice, bringing all my abilities--faithfully--to bear in the moment of work. When I fix dinner for my family, I want my whole self to be there, chopping, mixing, sauteing, loving, creating.

It's painful to be divided, to be planning the next while you're living the now. How can we live fully if our minds are already planning tomorrow's to-do list? Today I choose to celebrate this day the Lord has made by being faithfully present to the gift immediately before me, whether that's love, work, play, or service.

May you discover a hundred little smiles of God in your path today...just for you.

Quiet Mind

Shhhh...
For this moment, breathe deeply,
relax your shoulders
let your knee rest above its ankle--
no fretful bobbing up and down
the breeze kissed your temple just now
did you feel it?
your leaning into consciousness
your striving, sweating, lifting, molding
--the honorable effort of working out your own salvation--
lifts away like a firefly as you relax and open your hand.
Now, feel the Breath
hear the Heartbeat
let yourself be perfectly,
unreservedly,
eternally
Loved.

Late-Night "Oh"

A few minutes ago I was out driving, sun roof open, crickets chirping, under a full moon. I picked Cameron up from a friend's house and we drove home through the open countryside. I said something to him, relating a story from earlier tonight. I tried to re-explain and then gave up. "Why did I even want to tell that story?" I wondered. A little jolt of self-recrimination arose. Then a quick thought, "I am noticing these unloving--or at least suspect--behaviors in myself. Merton would call that the ongoing work of grace."

Suddenly I felt this big sense of "Oh"-ness spreading inside. I relaxed. It was like a warm current in a lazy lake. The fact that I can see these irritations and obstructions in myself is a great improvement over not seeing them. Grace is doing its work in me. Consciousness changes everything, and if these unloving thoughts are arising enough to be seen, they will soon evaporate in the Light of Love.

That's worth at least a small-h hallelujah. Goodnight!

Contact with Transcendence

I love the way Thomas Merton, Jesus, Rumi, Sri Ramana, and Lao Tzu (and many, many more--including you and me) all wrote, spoke, and moved from a sense of expressing (and pointing to and loving) transcendence. This morning it occurred to me, reading Sri Ramana's Reality in Forty Verses that all contact points to transcendence, like a kiss. My fingers touch this keyboard, and at the point of contact my being says "Thank you!" for the ability to connect, express, emote, offer, receive. The keyboard becomes a symbol of transcendence, enabling this arising sense in me to move beyond a perceived limit of me, Katherine, and go free into a medium where you receive it and draw it into your own consciousness, to stir whatever it may stir there. The music in the background--transcendent beauty becoming audible, articulated for the senses and pointing to God. The light on my desk--my vision makes contact with it--an expression of all Light, the Light of the world, the transcendent Truth of all being.

So many gifts, and so many thanks! This must be what "life abundant" is all about. Be blessed today! All will be (and is) well.

From Blessings to Blessed

2006 was an 84-hummingbird year. 2007 brought 119 hummingbirds. I was enamored, awed, captivated, inspired by them. They were little miracles, and they said something to me about my own soul--sometimes visible, a miracle, sometimes not. As I wrote those two summers in my sunroom, with the windows open on three sides and the cool green of the river birch tree illumining the eastern wall, I stopped and added a note with a number in my journal each time a flashing green, ruby-throated hummingbird hovered by the petunias, the bee balm, the wildflowers just outside my window.

This morning, early, I was out, and saw the empty hummingbird feeder and the spot where the bee balm grew in years past, and realized I've seen only three hummingbirds this year. The pattern of my day is much different now--I work in an office miles from my home for most of the week. Life has drawn me out of the sunroom, with its sacral, precious peace.

But something else has changed, too. Today I can feel the same wonder looking at a mosquito that I felt last year being blessed by the visit of a hummingbird. I can feel the pulse of gentle harmony in traffic. I can marvel at God in and between and through the letters, where I once thought I had to wait for something to arise in the space.

Moving beyond a tallying of blessings, maybe we discover that everything, everything is a gift and that counting is impossible because to count is to divide. We can bask in the whole knowing of our blessedness today. A tender sigh of Thanks with every exhale would not be too much.

Spiritual Intervention #2

Good morning! As I was preparing for work on this lush rainy Thursday, I read through the entry for today in A Little Daily Wisdom: Christian Women Mystics and was blessed by Hildegard of Bingen:

When anger tries to burn up the temple of my body, I'll look to the goodness of God, whom anger never touched. I'll look to God whom anger never touched, and I'll become sweeter than the breeze whose gentleness moistens the earth. I'll look to God whom anger never touched, and I'll have spiritual joy because virtues will begin to show themselves in me. I'll look to God whom anger never touched, and--because I look to Him--I'll experience God's calm goodness.

Amen and amen.

Whether your particular tendency under stress is to go into anger (as it sounds was the case with Hildegard) or anxiety (my own personal challenge), this meditation can help you interrupt the flow of thoughts and bring peace. I just substituted the word "anxiety" for "anger" and felt so peaceful I think I'll float to work this morning.

May you experience a hundred joyful things today. It's all God!

Oh, the Grand Inelegance of It All...

This poem arrived this morning in Writer's Almanac and it fit so perfectly with things I've been thinking about lately that I had to post it. (Plus it made me laugh.) I am so thankful that God delightedly accepts whatever inelegant, pieced-together, lopsided creations we offer him throughout the day and sees only pure love, radiance, hope, and the faithful heart of the innocense in which they're offered:


Naming the Animals
by Anthony Hecht

Having commanded Adam to bestow
Names upon all the creatures, God withdrew
To empyrean palaces of blue
That warm and windless morning long ago,
And seemed to take no notice of the vexed
Look on the young man's face as he took thought
Of all the miracles the Lord had wrought
Now to be labeled, dubbed, yclept, indexed.

Before an addled mind and puddle brow,
The feathered nation and the finny prey
Passed by; there went biped and quadruped.
Adam looked forth with bottomless dismay
Into the tragic eyes of his first cow,
And shyly ventured, "Thou shalt be called 'Fred.'"

"Naming the Animals" by Anthony Hecht, from Collected Later Poems. © Alfred A Knopf, 2003.

Happy, Shining People

Here is one of the many reasons why I love Thomas Merton:

In Louisville, on a corner of Fourth and Walnut, in the center of a shopping district, I was suddenly overwhelmed with the realization that I loved all these people, that they were mine and I was theirs, that we could not be alien to one another even though we were total strangers...I have the immense joy of being human, a member of a race in which God himself became incarnate. As if the sorrows and stupidities of the human condition could overwhelm me, now that I realize what we all are. If only everybody could realize this! But it cannot be explained. There is no way of telling people that they are all walking around Shining like the Sun!

[The bold is his emphasis, not mine.]

And today is Anne Frank's birthday, so here is a connecting quote from her journal. The Writer's Almanac says that Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl is the second best-selling nonfiction book in history. Only the Bible is ahead of her book in sales. Wow!

Everyone has inside of him a piece of good news. The good news is that you don't know how great you can be! How much you can love!

Be blessed today, aware that you carry the good news of love incarnate, shining out through your every thought and act!

For Those Waiting Times...

From today's Writer's Almanac. Perfect.

Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale

by Dan Albergotti

Measure the walls. Count the ribs. Notch the long days.
Look up for blue sky through the spout. Make small fires
with the broken hulls of fishing boats. Practice smoke signals.
Call old friends, and listen for echoes of distant voices.
Organize your calendar. Dream of the beach. Look each way
for the dim glow of light. Work on your reports. Review
each of your life's ten million choices. Endure moments
of self-loathing. Find the evidence of those before you.
Destroy it. Try to be very quiet, and listen for the sound
of gears and moving water. Listen for the sound of your heart.
Be thankful that you are here, swallowed with all hope,
where you can rest and wait. Be nostalgic. Think of all
the things you did and could have done. Remember
treading water in the center of the still night sea, your toes
pointing again and again down, down into the black depths.

"Things to Do in the Belly of the Whale" by Dan Albergotti from The Boatloads.© BOA Editions, Ltd., 2008.

Give Mom a Peaceful Day

I found this beautiful site yesterday, just looking for a nice new home page for my browser window. What a great way to start the day! Share it with your mom today if you want to give her a peaceful start to her morning: Peaceful Day.

Happy Mother's Day to our Father-Mother God and to all who shower others with God's qualities of unfailing love, nurturing, tender faithfulness, unflagging support, honesty, and kindness.

What Beautiful Webs We Weave

This morning early I took the dogs out, schlogging through the marshy backyard (it's been raining for two days) and stepping into a sunny spot. The sky was already a deep blue even though the sun was barely up...the trees and grass glowed a brilliant green. Something glinting in the sun at my feet caught my eye--it was a beautiful, perfect, spider web, stretched over the grass, catching the sunlight on its dewey threads. It was breathtaking! The whole web was only 6 inches in diameter, with rings within rings within rights. I stepped carefully and guided the dogs so we wouldn't disturb the spider's miraculous handiwork. Three feet away, I discovered another beautiful sunlit web, the same size, set carefully on the grass to catch the sun.

As I piloted the dogs back toward the house, I suddenly had an image of God taking care not to step on our webs, either--the webs we create that are our worlds for learning. This web has a conflicted relationship; that one, a difficult task; another a health challenge; another one, pure joy. Whatever webs we create in our day, we can know that God gave us the talent to create them and they have an inherent beauty all their own, simply because they are ours, because they have life, and because of the loving and careful One who is noticing and protecting them.

Recap of the Festival of Faith & Writing

I'm back from the Festival of Faith and Writing at Calvin College and wanted to share links for some of the great people I found there. I was really blessed and moved in several of the sessions. Not only did I come away with good and practical new writing ideas, but I was inspired by the heart, spirit, and mind of many creative and gifted writers. I recommend the following people to you, for their presence as much as for their writing and illustration talents:

• Kathleen Norris
  
  
• Michael Chabon
  
  
• Jon Muth
  
  
• Scott Cairns
  
  
• Daniel Taylor

I also met several great editors at a variety of publishing companies--they were approachable, friendly, helpful, smart. Thanks to Lil at Paraclete, Sheryl at Jossey-Bass, Kathleen at Fresh Air (a new imprint launching from Upper Room), and Vinita at Loyola--for their ideas, wisdom, and friendly openness.

If you didn't go this year, start planning your 2010 trip now. :)

Festival of Faith & Writing

This week I'll be attending the Festival of Faith & Writing, held every other year at Calvin College in Michigan. I'm really looking forward to it! I submitted the book proposal for the Conversations book, so we'll see what happens.

If you're going, keep an eye out for me. I'll be the tall brunette with the kitten on my shoulder. :)

This is too beautiful not to post

From the Writer's Almanac, this morning:

Susanna
by Anne Porter

Nobody in the hospital
Could tell the age
Of the old woman who
Was called Susanna

I knew she spoke some English
And that she was an immigrant
Out of a little country
Trampled by armies

Because she had no visitors
I would stop by to see her
But she was always sleeping

All I could do
Was to get out her comb
And carefully untangle
The tangles in her hair

One day I was beside her
When she woke up
Opening small dark eyes
Of a surprising clearness

She looked at me and said
You want to know the truth?
I answered Yes

She said it's something that
My mother told me

There's not a single inch
Of our whole body
That the Lord does not love

She then went back to sleep.

Poem: "Susanna" by Anne Porter, an excerpt from Living Things, published by Zoland Books, an imprint of Steerforth Press of Hanover, New Hampshire. © 2006 Anne Porter. Reprinted with permission.

Sacred Life

The following is a reflection from Martin Buber, in I and Thou. I just love it, so I posted it here. :) Enjoy.

I contemplate a tree.

I can accept it as a picture: a rigid pillar in a flood of light, or splashes of green traversed by the gentleness of blue silver ground.

I can feel it as movement: the flowing veins around the sturdy, striving core, the sucking of the roots, the breathing of the leaves, the infinite commere with earth and air--and the growing itself in its darkness.

I can assign it to a species and observe it as an instance, with an eye to its construction and its way of life.

I can overcome its uniqueness and form so rigorously that I recognize it only as an expression of the law--those laws according to which a constant opposition of forces is continually adjusted, or those laws according to which the elements mix and separate.

I can dissolve it into a number, into a pure relation between numbers, and eternalize it.

Throughout all of this the tree remains my object and has its place and its time span, its kind and condition.

But it can also happen, if will and grace are joined, that a sI contemplate the tree I am drawn into a relation, and the tree ceases to be an It. The power of exclusiveness has seized me.

This does not require me to forego any of the modes of contemplation. There is nothing that I must not see in order to see, and there is no knowledge that I must forget. Rather is everything, picture and movement, species and instance, law and number included and inseparably fused.

Whatever belongs to the tree is included: its form and its mechanics, its colors and its chemistry, its conversation with the elements and its conversation with the stars--all this in its entirety.

The tree is no impression, no play of my imagination, no aspect of a mood; it confronts me bodily and has to deal with me as I must deal with it--only differently.

One should not try to dilute the meaning of the relation: relation is reciprocity.

Does the tree then have consciousness, similar to our own? I have no experience of that. But thinking that you have brought this off in your own case, must you again divide the indivisible? What I encounter is neither the soul of a tree nor a dryad, but the tree itself."

Martin Buber, I and Thou (NY: Touchstone Books) p. 57-59.

Say Thanks, Eve

It occurred to me during my prayer time this morning that Eve would never have been tempted to take that apple if she hadn't felt she was missing out on something. And I know from my own life that when I feel I'm missing out, I'm not feeling grateful for what I already have. That's such a subtle thing--we can slip in and out of ingratitude thousands of times a day. When I am aware of all the huge, continuous, and wonderful (and little, sporadic, and quiet) blessings I receive each day, I don't yearn for fruit that's not mine. I'm happy; I'm content. I love my life, and I can't wait until the next time God strolls through the garden with me so I can share my joy and thanks.

May each of us, as we celebrate Thanksgiving in the U.S. or experience our days around the world, be fully aware and grateful for the truly uncountable gifts we are given on a daily basis. Happy Thanksgiving! I'm grateful for you, reader, that you read these thoughts that I post on this page.

:) Kathy