My New Spiritual Practice: Tuesday's Reflection

I have a new spiritual practice. New to me, that is.

My new spiritual practice requires only a blank book, a good pen, and a book of sacred words. Oh, and the inclination to hand copy word by word, page by page, the thoughts and insights and gifts of another. 

After my morning walk, I open both the journal and the sacred text to the pages where I left off the day before. I uncap my favorite fountain pen, and I begin to copy, carefully, using my best handwriting. I copy prayers and sections of scripture, and I do so without thinking too much about the words I form on the blank page. Instead, I allow the slow and deliberate movement of hand and eye across the page to join with my heart, to pulse in my mind. 

I am not a writer in these moments, but am, instead, a scribe. 

I think about the monks, the nuns of medieval times whose call in life was to create illuminated manuscripts of sacred texts, and I wonder if this task ever became tedious for them. Would they have preferred serving by gardening or teaching or singing? Did they experience this spiritual practice as prayer? 

I vaguely remember learning first how to print and then form cursive letters, repeating the letters over and over, trying to make my shaky, unpracticed attempts look just like the teacher's examples. As an adult I took a calligraphy class and loved learning different styles of the alphabet, like gothic and New English. I loved the swirls and flourishes and using a variety of pen nibs and inks as I copied favorite poems and sayings. I wasn't very good at it, but as a young mom, I treasured this quiet time. A contemplative time, although I don't think I used that word at the time. 

Now, however, I know this is contemplative time. A time to free my mind of worries and plans. A time to slow down. A time to give myself to something beyond my need to create, to be unique, to take my own experiences and attempt to breathe life into them for you, my readers. It is a time to connect with Spirit as it appears in the words under my fingertips. The paradox is that even as I don't choose the words, the words become mine. I know them, feel them. 

The book I have selected for this new spiritual practice is Celtic Treasure, Daily Scriptures and Prayers by J. Philip Newell. In the first days of this practice, I copied Newell's translation of sections from Genesis 1. "Great sea-monsters" was soon followed by "God saw that it was good," and I wondered how my personal monsters and demons are good. I copied "But in the dark a wind began to stir," again followed by "God saw that it was good," and I felt my inner yearnings. 


Sometimes my mind wanders, as it tends to do while meditating, and when that happens the letters look sloppy, too loose on the page, or I may skip over a word or change a word to what I think it should be. Sometimes I even drift to thoughts about the next book I will copy! When I realize I am no longer present, I lift my pen, take a deep breath, and return to the page, as if for the first time.

I adopted this practice only last week, after one of my spiritual directees mentioned it to me. Clearly, I have not been doing this long enough to consider it one of my practices. However, each morning I am eager to discover the words as they flow across the page. In the quiet I become calm, more centered and more aware of God's presence.  

An Invitation
Have you entered any new spiritual practice recently? I would love to know.