Praying My Way to November 3

 

My morning meditation and prayer time has expanded. I sit in my comfortable Girlfriend Chair longer and longer and then extend that prayer time as I walk or do all the other routine tasks of the day. 

Morning meditation and prayer becomes evening meditation and prayer. 

And then there is another day--another day closer to election day.

My daily attempt is to stay calm.

                 Jesus spoke...and there was a great calm.
                                           Luke 8: 24

Sometimes it helps to have someone else's words as a guide, and I thank dear friend Jim Borgschatz for writing these words.

    In the place of fear, we cannot see God's Presence
   With ill will or hatred, we do not know the peace of God
   In the midst of accusation and defense, our awareness of God is cut

         off.
    Listening to the endless flow of opinion overshadows the still small 

         voice of God.
    Though God speaks, angry noise and conscious deceit blocks our

         ears.
    When we have no love, nor live in its intention, we've turned away

         from God's creativity.
    Put all that aside and let God be God within and around and always. 

                                                                            

Here's how I am using Jim's words. I say each line aloud or to myself and then, breathing in an out slowly, finding my own rhythm, I repeat a key phrase in the line. I rest in those words, allowing them to move into my heart, to become part of my being in that moment, and to extend into the universe. 

   In the place of fear, we cannot see God's Presence

                            God's Presence
   

   With ill will or hatred, we do not know the peace of God.

                            The peace of God
   

    In the midst of accusation and defense, our awareness of God is cut

         off.

                            Awareness of God

    Listening to the endless flow of opinion overshadows the still small 

         voice of God.

                            The still small voice of God

    Though God speaks, angry noise and conscious deceit blocks our

         ears.

                            God speaks

    When we have no love, nor live in its intention, we've turned away

         from God's creativity.

                            God's creativity

    Put all that aside and let God be God within and around and always. 

                            Let God be God.

                            Always. All ways. 

Throughout the day one or more of these phrases resonates with me, calls to me. Hearing the bells ring on each quarter hour from the chapel on the University of St Thomas campus, I whisper, "God's creativity" or "God speaks." When I receive an email from a friend, I think, "God's presence." When I watch the PBS News Hour at 6:00, I remind myself, "Let God be God," and when I close the book I am reading, turn out the light, and close my eyes, I pray, "The peace of God."

Are words enough? No, of course not, but I pray the words will  support and guide me towards right action and will strengthen a life force of love.

An Invitation

What words are in your heart and on your lips these days? I would love to know.

Some Recommendations from the Past Week

1.    Podcast:Unlocking Us with Bene Brown --two recent episodes. September 23, "On My Mind. RBG, Surge Capacity  and Play as an Energy Source." and September 16, " Sonya Renee Taylor on "The Body is Not an Apology."

2.    I've recommended Diane Butler's Bass's blog The Cottage before. This week I really appreciated her idea to think of the days leading up to the election as a Lenten practice. 

3.    Podcast: If you are Louise Penny fans and eagerly await each new Three Pines mystery, you will enjoy hearing her on the Club Book, Minnesota's Coolest Book Club podcast. The talk was way back on September 4, 2014, and my friend Becky and I were in the audience. I loved listening to it again. I loved Penny's most recent book, by the way--All The Devils Are Here, set in Paris. 

RBG and Now What?

Stunned. Sad. Scared. 

That's how I felt when I heard the news Friday evening about the death of Ruth Bader Ginsburg. I didn't sleep well that night, waking up frequently feeling a bit unsteady about what the loss of this dignified, but fierce woman will mean for the future of this country. 

Nina Totenberg, the American legal affairs correspondent for National Public Radio, called her "a force to be reckoned with," and oh, how grateful I am we had that force for as long as we did, but what now?

Somehow it didn't feel right to carry on with business as usual Saturday morning, but I know myself well enough to know that what I most need when I experience a flurry of messy feelings is to sit with those feelings. To listen to what those feelings tell me, especially about how to respond.

I started the day as I do most days--with time for devotion, prayer and meditation. I read this in Healing After Loss by Martha Whitmore Hickman. 

               We are not alone in the world. We are bound to 

               the rest of creation as cells in a body are bound 

               together.                                                        

                   And not only bound to the living, but bound to 

              the dead. We feel this to be true as well, though 

              we don't understand how. 

 

I thought about RBG's legacy--not only the way she lived her life and the vast influence she had on the Supreme Court, but the example she set for women and for men, too. That does not disappear because she has died. She is bound to the living forever more.

I know there are difficult days ahead. Shaky at best, and those of us who pray and work for a change in the administration know RBG's death at this time is a blow, but we can each be a "force to be reckoned with," too.

So what did I do with those messy feelings? 

Well, I do what I often do when I need to find energy and clarification for the next steps: I clean. I know that sounds silly, but it usually works for me. There is nothing like cleaning a bathroom or two to get back to basics. Getting down on my hands and knees to scrub floors is not just humbling, it reminds me that the next thing to do is whatever is in front of you. 

Two small things were in front of me: I sat at my lady's writing desk in the living room and I worked on another big stack of postcards reminding people to vote. And then I signed a petition from MoveOn.org about waiting till after the election to confirm a new Supreme Court Justice. Sign here! 

I am still stunned, sad, and even scared, but RBG didn't stop working for justice and equality, and neither should we.

Oh, and one more thing. I know that an antidote to not doing anything is to do something that brings pleasure--something that awakens the soul to beauty and enhances one's ability to live fully. For me on a beautiful fall Saturday that meant driving in the country and looking for pumpkins. 

I slept much better Saturday night. 

An Invitation

What do you do when you feel off balance or overwhelmed by feelings? I would love to know. 

Some Recommendations from the Past Week And a Reminder

*  Today, Tuesday, September 22 is National Voter Registration Day!

*   Meditations in Richard Rohr's Daily Meditations, especially the most recent days.  https://cac.org/category/daily-meditations/2020/09/

*   Videos of spirituality writers on the topic "Faith, Hope, and Love During an Election" on the Writing for Your Life website. https://compassionatechristianity.org/faith-hope-and-love-during-an-election/ I have not listened to all of them yet, but so far especially liked the one by Brian McLaren.

*  My copies of Elizabeth Jarret Andrew's books Writing the Sacred Journey and Living Revision are well-worn. I consult them frequently. Her most recent blog post calls this time in our country is a time of "deep revision." https://mailchi.mp/f8ef357621d8/deep-dive-into-chaos?e=99c2514cbb

 

    

Vote!

                                                                                                
 

I can hardly wait to vote this year, and I hope you feel the same way.

My absentee ballot should arrive most any day now, and I intend to fill it out right away, and then hand deliver it to a designated location. I will miss walking up the block to the school and standing in line with my neighbors. I will miss thanking the polling officials for their service and then standing in the little booth where I mark my ballot, carefully, completely. I will miss getting the little "I Voted!" sticker to wear the rest of the day.  

When we lived in the country outside of Cleveland, Ohio, our polling place was the town hall a hundred years old. As I left the historic building, I always bought cookies or banana bread at the bake sale located right outside the door--another great American tradition. 

Voting feels good. Don't miss it, and encourage others to vote, too.

If you live in Iowa, you may receive a postcard from me, encouraging you to vote. I signed up with https://postcardstoswingstates.com to send postcards to registered voters in swing states. The goal is to send 13 million postcards, and according to the website 15.7 million postcards have been ordered!

One day I sat at my lady's writing desk in the living room to begin addressing and writing the prescribed message.

    I took a deep breath and lit a candle. 

    In an attempt to calm myself in this time of high anxiety, I whispered words from Henri Nouwen: "We make many attempts to establish the outer world as a safe haven...instead of finding a safe haven within and bringing that to the outer world." 

   I paused as I wrote the name of the recipient -- Martha or Terry or Sierra or Brandon-- and imagined them voting. 

    I wrote the message and signed my first name, a moment of connection.

    I addressed the card  to Storm Lake or Ottawa or Dubuque or Marshalltown and stamped it. 

    On October 26, as directed by the sponsoring organization, I will go to the post office and mail the 100 postcards. 

    I will continue to think about MariaElena and Thomas and Weiwie and Shannon and pray they exercise the right and privilege to vote. And maybe they not only will buy a cupcake as they leave their polling place, but will remind a neighbor to vote, too.

An Invitation: What are your voting plans? What memories do you have of voting? I would love to know. 

Some Reading Recommendations From The Past Week

1. Diana Butler Bass encourages you to vote and vote wisely. https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/no-pearl-clutching-allowed

2.  Nadia Bolz Weber shares why she is voting for the Biden-Harris ticket. https://nadiabolzweber.substack.com/p/why-as-a-woman-of-faith-i-am-supporting 

3.  I devoured the latest mystery by Louise Penny, All the Devils Are Here. Loved it!!!! I love all her books, but a bonus with the new one is that it is set in Paris. 

Starting A New Chapter

 

This past week I "finished" a chapter for my spiritual memoir. By finished, I don't mean it is perfect and needs no additional work or revisions. No, instead, it is now simply "at rest," and it is time to move on to the next chapter.

The time between setting a chapter aside and starting a new one is always a shaky time for me. 

First, there is the ritual of reading the completed chapter to my writing group. We four have been together for several years now, meeting a couple times a month. Before the pandemic we usually met in my living room. I provided snacks and beverages, and they provided the wisdom, insights, and support. Now we meet via ZOOM, which obviously is not the same, but the wisdom, insights, and support remain. 

 I listen carefully to their suggestions and responses and make notes on my manuscript. Sometimes I think, "Wow, why didn't I see that before? Of course, I need to expand that thought." Other times I think to myself, "Nope, I am going to leave it just as it is." I am tempted to return to my desk and revise, revise, revise, but instead I place it in the box with other chapters and say to myself, "It is time to move on. I will return to this later."

Then there is the clearing and ordering of the space. Filing and sorting and tossing. The cleaning phase extends beyond the garret into the rest of the house. And in the case of this past week that meant creating a summer into fall look in the house. Not pumpkins, yet, but can they be far behind? 

Hometending is a spiritual practice for me, a way to steady myself, to lighten my load, to invite a new perspective into view, and to re-connect with my life beyond my desk. And so I shop the house and re-arrange and try this and try that and call it play.

Soon, however, it is time to return to the garret and open a new file, "Chapter Five, Part III..." and that's when the doubts return. Why am I doing this in the first place? Why can't I be content to spend my days reading and baking cookies and emailing friends and walking in the neighborhood and watching Netflix? What makes me think I am a writer anyway? 

I go through this litany of doubt each time I approach a new chapter. Every single time. That doubt seems to be getting worse as I get closer to the planned end of the memoir, because once I come to the end of the last chapter and have done an overall revision, then I will need to do something with it--write a book proposal, look for an agent, a publisher, and on and on. 

It's at that point I remind myself about what I am doing, why I am doing this. I write to share how spiritual practices can impact and enhance our lives and deepen our relationship to God. Using stories from my life, I write to help others discover spiritual practices for life's labyrinth. This is my one true thing, and I need to get a grip and begin working on the next chapter. 

And so the process begins. I go through notes I've made for the new topic. I brainstorm ideas and stories. I shop my bookshelves for material to support the topic and to stretch my thinking and approach. I immerse myself in the possibilities and begin to form a plan. 

Eventually, that leads to writing the dreaded first draft--my least favorite part of the process--but that is a whole other topic.

Here's the point. Aren't we always beginning again? Aren't we always in transition? Isn't there always a need to re-ground, to re-commit, to move forward? Don't we always fight our doubts? Aren't we always in process? Ending a chapter? Living in the midst of a chapter? Starting a new one? 

That's the deal, and we need--I need--to pay attention to what strengthens me no matter which chapter I am in at the moment. I need to pay attention to what leads me further away from the person I was created to be and what brings me closer. No small task, but a worthy one. 

Enough. I need to return to the new chapter--whatever it turns out to be.

 Good work is work that develops us as we develop it. To know if the work we are doing is worth it, we need to ask ourselves what it brings out in us: creativity, commitment, artistry, compassion?                                       Joan Chittister 

 

An Invitation: What strengthens you right now? Which chapter are you in the midst of writing? I would love to know. 

Some Reading Recommendations From The Past Week

1.   My Grandmother's Hands, Racialized Trauma and the Pathway to Mending Our Hearts and Bodies by Resmaa Menaken, MSW, LICSW, SEP. I am only a third of the way into this book, but it is a WOW read. This morning I read the chapter called "The False Fragility of the White Body," which includes a list of the ways white Americans use white fragility to avoid facing our own unhealed and historical trauma. Put this on your list--move it to the top of your list. Here's an interview with the author: https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/the-author-speaks/201709/my-grandmother-s-hands

2. A post in Diana Butler Bass's blog, The Cottage about wearing masks--"The Vexing Spirituality of Masks." https://dianabutlerbass.substack.com/p/just-pieces-of-cloth

3. An essay by the author Sing, Unburied, Sing, Jesmyn Ward about the death of her husband and so much more.... https://www.vanityfair.com/culture/2020/08/jesmyn-ward-on-husbands-death-and-grief-during-covid

4.    Of course, I continue to read fiction, too. Recent ones include 

       A Good Neighborhood by Therese Anne Fowler

      The Bookseller, The First Hugo Marston Mystery by Mark Pryor

      The Most Fun We Ever Had by Claire Lombardo 

      Like A Mule Bringing Ice Cream to the Sun by Sarah Ludipo Manyika

       Belong To Me by Marisa de los Santos

Summer Reflections

 

 These are the lush days---the days when the greens are the deepest, the foliage is its thickest, and life often feels its fullest. Summer just before the turning into fall. 

For many this summer has been the most unusual of our lives; a summer when doing what has always been normal or expected or routine has been upended. All indications are that fall will continue that trend, so perhaps it is time to sit in the summer sunshine and reflect on these past days.

Take your journal or notebook and sit in an outdoor space. Perhaps where you have spent time this summer. 

Close your eyes lightly, not tightly, and take a deep cleansing breath. And another and yet another, until you feel your body relaxing and finding an easy rhythm.

 Open your eyes and breathe in your surroundings. Look all around you, especially behind you. Take your time. Note the colors, the smells and sounds, the patterns. Note what interests you, grabs your attention. Perhaps you are aware of something that feels new or different. Allow yourself to gaze, to graze in this summer space.

Close your eyes once again. Lightly, not tightly, and take a trip through your summer days. Walk the paths of June, July, and August, just at an end. What images come to mind? Do you recall any significant conversations or events? Remember an ordinary day, and relive the hours. Spend time in those summer days.

When you are ready, open your eyes and read through the following questions. Choose one or two to reflect on in your journal--perhaps one question that feels easy and comfortable and another that makes you edgy, itchy. 

1.    How was this summer similar to past summers? What did you do that you always do, that symbolizes summer for you?

2.    How was this summer different, unusual? How was this summer different from the way you hoped summer would be?

3.    What were your challenges this summer? How did you cope with the challenges or was your response more resistance than adaptability?

4.    What did you learn about yourself this summer? How did you stretch this summer? When were you the teacher and when were you the student?

5.    What regrets do you have about this summer? How will that guide you into the next season?  What are your hopes for the fall of 2020? How will you live into those hopes?

6.    What was unexpected about the summer? Were there any pleasant surprises? Any moments of beauty and calm?

7.    Does anything need to be healed from these months?

8.    Did you notice the movement of God in your life? If so, when, where, how? Were there any times you felt fully present?

9.    Were there events this summer that were upsetting to you? Did those events change your thinking or awareness? What does this mean going forward?

10.   Complete the statement "The summer of 2020 was..." Why did you choose those words or phrases? 

11.   What question haven't I asked? 

Well, this should keep you writing for some time. Consider discussing these questions with a friend or small group, remembering to listen as you share reflections. 

These reflections can be a steppingstone to the next months in your life. I send you blessings as you look back and move forward.

An Invitation: I would love to hear from you about your summer.