Embracing Age: Thursday's Reflection

Recently, one of my spiritual directees told me she admires the way I embrace my age. I appreciated the compliment, even though my actual first thought was, "What choice do I have?" But, of course, we each have a choice. We each have the ability and the opportunity to choose our attitude, our approach to these older years, even when there are challenges. And, of course, there are challenges. 

So what does it mean to embrace my age?

My ongoing goal, hope, gift is to become the person I was created to be and when I stay awake to that unfolding intention, I embrace my life --past, present, and whatever future is ahead for me.

One way I try to do that is by holding in my heart several key questions as ongoing touchstones:
*     What is important in my life right now?
*     What is my purpose and what gives my life meaning?
*     What worries me and how do I need to address those concerns?
*     Where do I find joy and fulfillment?
*     What am I learning about myself?
*     How do I share my gifts and make a difference?
*     What do I need to surrender? 
*     Where do I find strength? Hope? Support? Inspiration? 

I embrace this time in my life because I choose to live it, supported by my spiritual practices, as a time of renewal and spiritual growth.

Thomas Moore's most recent book, Ageless Soul, The Lifelong Journey Toward Meaning and Joy is one of many companions on this journey. Here are two quotations:

             ...our eternal, unchanging selves--I prefer to 
            call it our soul--become more visible over time.
            This is the key sign that you are aging and not
            merely spending time--gradually you discover
            your original self, your own pristine way of being...
            If you really age, you become a better person.
                                                              p. 3

            If the Buddha remained in his protected environ-
            ment, he might have been happier, but he wouldn't
            have become the Buddha. Similarly, if we agree to
            remain ignorant of life's challenges, we will forever
            be cut off from our deepest selves. That is why 
            taking on aging is so important. We have to be with
            what is, not what we wish the situation could be.
                                                               p. 30

An Invitation
Are you embracing, denying or fighting age? I would love to know. 

NOTE: Next week is spring break for our grandson, and my husband and I are in charge. I suspect there won't be much time or leftover energy to write blog posts! I'll be back Tuesday, April 9. 

Listening to the Sounds in Our World: Tuesday's Reflection

As grateful as I am for the option of central air conditioning in our house on uncomfortable days, I love the days when the temperatures are mild, and we are able to open the windows. We have had a number of those days recently. Pleasant, cool air in the morning and as we sleep, and summer temps that are easy to tolerate during the daytime, even in the garret where I spend much of my day. 

I write in silence and prefer it that way, but with the windows open I become aware of all the sounds that surround me and are part of this urban environment. On any given day I may hear:
           My neighbor sweeping the sidewalk. 
           A single, did I really hear it? beep when a neighbor unlocks his car.
           Windchimes, tinkling a new melody with each lift of breeze.
           Ziggy, the puppy next door, a combination poodle and St Bernard. Yup, that's right, and is he cute, but with each passing week, he becomes more sure of his bark, a bark that grows darker and deeper. 
           Someone passing by the house on a skateboard.
           A lawn mower, and I am grateful we live someplace with small yards where lawn mowing is not an all day occupation.
           Construction sounds on the street and at people's homes. Lots of activity going on.
            An occasional siren, and I pause, fingers over the keyboard, to whisper, "May all be well."
             A telephone conversation. I make up the part I can't hear. 
            Young Maggie across the street practicing her flute, and she is quite good. I remember decades ago one evening when Bruce and I were taking a walk in our neighborhood, and we heard trombone sounds and wondered who else in the neighborhood besides our son played the trombone, only to discover he was practicing on our front porch. Probably not a great idea. 
             Birds serenading  Squirrels chipping. The previous night when it had turned dark, we even heard a rabbit crying. Rapid, oh, oh, oh's.
               The UPS truck going by. Have you ever noticed how UPS trucks have a distinctive sound? 
              A toddler crying, finding it hard to enter the day perhaps.
I hear him most mornings even when the windows are closed, and I send a special prayer to him and his stay-at-home father in hopes the rest of the day will improve. Or perhaps it will be like the morning I was returning from my morning walk, and as I passed the house on the corner, I heard an exasperated mother scream, "William, what have you done?" I wondered myself what William had done and what happened to poor William then and did his mother recover or was the day lost at that point? That definitely was a time to send a soothing prayer. 

On these days of open windows I find myself becoming a listening presence. 

I read a wonderful story about Mother Teresa in Kay Lindahl's Practicing the Sacred Art of Listening, A Guide to Enrich Your Relationships and Kindle Your Spiritual Life. http://www.sacredlistening.com/index.htm 

Mother Teresa was asked what she did when she prayed to God. "'Oh,' she said, 'that's easy. I listen.' And what does God do? 'Oh,' she replied, 'God listens.'"

I think about God listening as I listen and how our listening hearts lift together in the direction of all that needs to be heard, all that can be heard. 

Sometimes I wish the background of my life wasn't quite so noisy. Sometimes I wish the garbage guys were more aware of the monastery I have created in the garret. What would they think about learning to sing Taize' chants? What I realize, however, is that it is my task, a spiritual practice, if you will, to bring stillness to the act of listening. 

"Silence is not the absence of sound, but rather a shifting of attention toward sounds that speak to the soul." The Re-Enchantment of Everyday Life, Thomas Moore, p. 104. http://careofthesoul.net 


There is so much that speaks to my soul everyday, and all I have to do is listen. 

An Invitation
Open the window of your heart. What do you hear? What is speaking just for you and how do you respond? I would love to know. 

         
             

Shadow and Light: Tuesday's Reflection

As I unloaded several bags into the back of my car after a big Target run, I noticed my shadow following my every move. The day was gloriously sunny, one of those perfect mild summer days; a day to celebrate with its crystal clear skies and a sun worthy of an elementary school drawing. And yet, there was my shadow, a reminder of the darkness in the light.

Shadow and light. Both in my presence at the same moment.

Where there is light, there is shadow, and where there is shadow, there is also light. 

In a recent spiritual direction session, my client comforted herself with her ability to be strong even in the midst of a current difficult situation. She is strong, emotionally and spiritually and physically, and I admire how she handles what would cause many to curl up under the covers and ignore all methods of communication. Her ongoing strength serves her well and should not be discounted, but I suggested she think about the shadow side of her strength. That was a new thought for her.

In her next session, she talked a bit about the stoicism of strength and how sometimes being strong gets in the way of being realistic or of allowing others to assist you. With the recognition of the shadow side, comes the ability to adjust and also, the possibility for transformation. Light. 

When we are in the midst of chaos or grief or unexpected turbulence, someone is bound to remind us to be positive and "look on the bright side," and I am not opposed to that. Without meaning to sound like a Pollyanna, I do believe there is light, however teeny, tiny it might be, in everything. Yes, everything. It may be a kind word. It may be recognition of some strength or acceptance or tolerance inside yourself you had not known lived quietly within you. It may be a lesser degree of something you anticipated to be much worse. It may be self-growth or an unexpected path leading to greater pleasure or love or success or knowledge. The light can take many forms. 

When in the midst of light, however, we are less inclined to intentionally look for the shadow. Wouldn't that be pessimistic or negative? Why court the dark side? Why jinx what is going smoothly with a more somber view? 

I think knowing both the shadow and the light side of a situation or of an aspect of yourself is a pathway to greater depth, to wholeness, and is a necessary way to care for your soul. 

I know for instance that most of the time my ability to be organized and efficient brings me light and often shines light for others, but sometimes there is a shadow side to that ability. Sometimes being organized gets in the way of being present to the beauty in front of me or to the needs or opportunities of right now. Sometimes being efficient interferes with joy or fun and spontaneity. In these cases I want shadow to be my teacher. 

I am an introvert. To extroverts it may be hard to see the light in that characteristic, but I know the delight and benefits of quiet time, of silence, of reflection, of the independence and ease of being by myself and knowing my own good company. However, I also am aware of the shadow side of introversion. Sometimes I just plain miss out on connection or exploration, because I need to recharge my energy by being alone. Knowing what I need, however, is part of caring for the soul, of understanding my essence complete with shadow and light. 

Joan Chittister http://joanchittister.org in her book The Gift of Years, Growing Older Gracefully, which I quote in this blog frequently, refers to burdens and blessings. For example, in the chapter on "adjustment," she writes, 

         A burden of these years is that we must consciously

         decide how we will live, what kind of person we will

         become now, what kind of personality and spirituality

         we will bring into every group, how alive we intend to 

         be.

          

         A blessing of these years is being able to live so open-

         heartedly, and to adjust so well, that others can look to

         us and see what being old can bring in terms of life, of

         holiness, of goodness to make the world new again. 

                                                                    p. 65

Sometimes the burden and the blessing, or the shadow and the light can seem quite similar, the boundaries blur. Acknowledging that both shadow and light lives within us and on our human journey, can lead us each to greater care of the soul on our quest for wholeness. 

Remember Peter Pan who felt incomplete when he lost his shadow? Wendy sewed it back on, and he felt restored and more himself. We need our shadow, just as much as we need the light. 

         Care of the soul is not solving the puzzle of life;

         quite the opposite, it is an appreciation of the

         paradoxical mysteries that blend light and darkness 

         into the grandeur of what human life and culture can

         be. 

                        Care of the Soul,

                        A Guide for Cultivating Depth and Sacredness

                        in Everyday Life, p. xix

                        Thomas Moore
                        http://careofthesoul.net 

An Invitation
How is shadow and light currently interacting in your life? I would love to know.  

                        

March's Book: A Religion of One's Own by Thomas Moore

Part of coming full circle, moving back to St Paul, is confronting the church question. All the years we lived here and raised our family, we were extremely involved in church life. Bruce and I each served on the church council and on any number of committees. I was actively involved as well in the regional organization of our denomination. We attended church every Sunday unless we were out of town, and the kids went to Sunday School and participated in youth groups. Church was a major part of our life. In fact, for several years, when I worked at Luther Seminary, it was my work life and my volunteer life, as well. 

When we moved to Ohio, we struggled to find a church home, but had a hard time finding the right match. We attended two different Episcopalian churches and developed good friends in those settings and then found a small Lutheran congregation, but we found we were trying too hard to fit in, even though we considered ourselves "genetic Lutherans." 

By the time we moved to Madison, we were "unchurched," and frankly, we were pretty comfortable with that. Going to church when we visited our family in Minnesota always felt good, and of course, holiday time meant church time. Occasionally, we would attend a morning service at a Lutheran church or Holy Wisdom Monastery or the Unitarian Church, but didn't felt compelled to commit. 

Now we have returned home, and I think we both feel more of a pull to find a church home. We are very drawn to the Lutheran church where our daughter and family are members, Gloria Dei Lutheran Church. http://www.gloriadeistpaul.org The liberal social justice atmosphere, the superb preaching, good music, diverse activities, and nearby location, as well as the chance to worship as a family, all appeal.  I like the size---not too big and not too small. I am sure we will become members there.

Do you sense any hesitation as I write this? 

The Right Book at the Right Time 
Once again, the right book at the right time appears. A Religion of One's Own, A Guide to Creating a Personal Spirituality in a Secular World by Thomas Moore. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-moore/ Moore's other books, including Care of the Soul, Soul Mates, and Dark Nights of the Soul, all have a permanent place on my bookshelves, and this one will as well. 

The years of being without a church home coincided with a deep spiritual growth in my life. Yearnings I had been feeling for a long time had room and time to expand and gain audience. It was during the Ohio years that I trained to be a spiritual director and had many opportunities to lead retreats and groups. I actively pursued my interest and use of a wide variety of spiritual practices and traditions. I challenged myself--and continue to do so--to uncover my essence and return to wholeness and connection 
to the Divine. 

Still, however, I felt some measure of guilt when I realized I was one of those people who could be classified as "spiritual, but not religious." What about the role of community in my life?And was I just being lazy? 

Being Religious
Moore, who calls himself a "religious humanist," makes a distinction between religion and formal religion. Formal religion is the institution or organization, and religion is a "creative and concrete response to the mysteries that permeate our lives."

          When you're religious in a deep way, you sense
          the sacred in things--a faint and mysterious
          pulse…Personal religion is both an awareness
          of the sacred and concrete action arising out of
          that awareness.  p. 4

Moore adds that developing a religion of one's own doesn't ignore the gift of the formal religions, but instead looks to them for insight. However, a religion of one's own "takes root and flourishes in an individual life." A life that demands being engaged and becoming a creator and not a follower. 

          When I speak of a religion of one's own,  I'm not
          talking about a selfish, ego-centered, loosely
          patched together spiritual concoction. I'm 
          recommending a courageous, deep-seated, fate-
          driven, informed, and intelligent life that has 
          sublime and transcendent dimension. It can be
          shared in a community. It can be accomplished
          inside or outside a traditional religious organization.
          It is suitable for pious members of a religious group
          and for agnostics and atheists. To be religious even in
          a personal way, you have to wake up and find your
          own portals to wonder and transcendence.  p. 12

Evolution of a Personal Religion
Over the years there have been times when being affiliated with a formal religion has shut me down. I struggled with the sexism and exclusive or at least limited nature of what was offered. Sometimes I could ignore what I heard in favor of standing in prayer with others, but eventually that was not the answer. I needed to seek. 

And oh, how exciting the search is. Writing this blog is part of that search. Participating in The Hedgerow Initiative at Wisdom Ways http://www.wisdomwayscenter.org Center for Spirituality in which scripture is examined and studied and interpreted in broader, more expansive ways is another avenue. Being faithful in prayer and making room for daily meditation is another. Attempting to live with awareness of the extraordinary in the ordinary and being present to the Presence within myself and others is part of my evolving personal religion. 

Moore explores the paths and possibilities for creating a personal religion, suggesting the following as we are engaged in the process.
           * Redefine traditional terms and ideas.
           * Don't be too literal about community.
           * Feel that you have the right to learn from and practice
              anything from the world's spiritual and religious
              traditions.
           * Understand that many things, if not everything, that 
               are usually considered secular are sacred, if you
               have the eyes to see it.
            * Be a mystic in your own ways.
            * Wisdom, compassion, and method. 
            * Use the arts for your spiritual education and welfare.
            * Be intelligent about everything involved in your
               spirituality, but also use your intuition.
            * Embrace eros; don't be afraid of it. Build your
               religion on joy and bliss. pp. 269-271

The Church Question
So where does that leave me on the church question? Open. I look forward to Sunday mornings in a way I haven't before, for I think I bring more to them than I did in the past. I don't depend on church to define and fulfill my spirituality, my personal religion, but to enhance it. 

I will continue to ask the question and to reflect, for this is part of my spiritual growth in the wisdom years. 

An Invitation
What is your definition of religion? How does your personal religion and formal religion intersect and has that changed over the years? I would love to know.      


          

February's Book: My Ideal Bookshelf. Art by Jane Mount. Edited by Thessaly La Force

What are the essential books on your bookshelf? Who are the authors who are your mentors, your guides? If you had to reduce your library to only a couple shelves, which books would unquestionably have a place? Which books do you return to,  reread and consult? 

These are not just practical questions, but are revelatory questions about who you are and who you were created to be. 

When I started writing this post I thought I was going to write about Thomas Moore's most recent book, A Religion of One's Own, A Guide to Creating a Personal Spirituality in a Secular World, but after writing the opening paragraph, I realized I am not ready to write about this book. I need to sit with it more, to reread all I have underlined, to reflect on what has arisen for me as I have read this book. His books have always been the right book at the right time for me, and I know without a doubt that his books will figure prominently on my "Forever Bookshelves," but I need more relaxed, internal time with this new book before I share my reflections on it in this blog. 

Switching Gears
Oh great, I said to myself, what do I write about in what has become a third Thursday of the month regular feature, my book of the month? It's not that I haven't read other books (For example, I loved the new novel Under the Wide and Starry Sky by Nancy Horan about Robert Louis Stevenson and his American wife, Fanny. Horan wrote the acclaimed Loving Frank about Frank Lloyd Wright and his wife Mamah Cheney), but this post is not meant to be a book review, but instead, is a way to offer spiritual reflections and to invite your thoughts as well. 

I reread my first paragraph and had my answer. My Ideal Bookshelf. Art by Jane Mount. Edited by Thessaly La Force. http://www.idealbookshelf.com/pages/the-book. Normally, I don't quote from the cover flap, but I am making an exception this time, for it describes perfectly the scope of this book.
        The books that we choose to keep and display--let alone
        read--can say a lot about who we are and how we see 
        ourselves. In My Ideal Bookshelf, more than one hundred
        leading cultural figures including writers…musicians…,
        chefs and food writers…Hollywood figures…, and fashion 
        designers…share the the books that matter to them most--
        books that define their dreams and ambitions and in many
        cases helped them find their way in the world.

Now if that weren't intriguing enough, the book itself is lovely. Each short first person essay is accompanied by an illustration of the book spines of the individual's personal selections. 

One Book Leads to Another
This book sits in one of the cubbies in my Lady's Writing Desk in the living room, and I dip into it occasionally. I am reading the essays both in the order in which they are presented, beginning with Hugh Acheson, a chef and cookbook author, but also open it at random and see where I land. Just now it is the writer Mary Karr and I love her shelf, which includes one of my favorite books, The Woman Warrior by Maxine Hong Kingston. Seeing the spine of that book reminds me of the class I took many years ago in which that book was discussed and then many years after that driving quite a distance to hear Kingston speak. Seeing this title this morning makes me think about the way I have at times been a "woman warrior;" times in which I have gone to battle for a cause or a person; times in which I have stood up for myself and surprised myself doing that. This is a contender for my "ideal bookshelf," and deserves to be reread. 

Each quick hit with this book seems to lead to a memory, a connection, a writing idea, or at the very least a new book for my ever-growing "Books to Read" list. And, of course, the very nature of this book makes me think about what books I would want on my ideal bookshelf. Just how long is this fantasy bookshelf anyway?

Fantasy Shelves
My fiction shelf is already quite full and includes my favorite childhood book, Dandelion Cottage, which I think inspired my own love of home tending. Each of the other books--Pride and Prejudice, Giants in the Earth by Rolvaag, The Scarlet Letter by Hawthorne, The Woman's Room by French, a selection of Nancy Drew books, Grapes of Wrath by Steinbeck, Hedda Gabler by Ibsen, A Separate Peace by Knowles, The Great Gatsby by Fitzgerald, and Goodbye Columbus by Roth--conjures memories of time and place, as well as a stage in my personal development. 

I have not yet committed to an imaginary nonfiction shelf, although I know Thomas Moore's Care of the Soul will be there. I can think of others, such as Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg and Composing a Life by Catherine Bateson and Gift from the Sea by Anne Morrow Lindbergh, but the nonfiction shelf feels more in flux to me. I know I will continue to read excellent fiction that will move or delight me, but when I think about choosing fiction for my ideal bookshelf, I feel myself gazing into the past. The potential nominees for my nonfiction shelf seem more about the present and the future, as I strive to restore my essential self. Does any of this make sense to you? 

It's time to stop writing about books and return to reading time. I do promise to write in the future about A Religion of One's Own by Thomas Moore. I know it has sparked so many thoughts for me, but they are jumping and bouncing in me and in no shape to sit on a shelf yet. 

An Invitation
You knew what the question would be before getting to this spot in the post, didn't you? What would be on your Ideal Bookshelf? Why? What do the books you have selected say about you--where you've been, who you are and who you are striving to be? I would love to know.  

Tuesday's Reflection: Craigslist and Moving On and Out

Last night three very nice and strong young men came to my Dad's house to pick up the china cupboard we had listed on Craigslist. Sunday Marie and her husband came to see it, and she fell in love with it and clearly wanted it. However, this monster-sized one-piece stalwart of our family dining room was not going to leave the house easily. The couple examined and strategized how to manage the move, while my husband and I continued the ongoing packing and emptying of my Dad's house, readying it for a For Sale sign. 

Last night they returned and I checked one more item off the list. Yes! We are moving on and moving out.

Moving On and Out as a Spiritual Path
If you have gone through this process of dealing with your parents' home and belongings, either because of their deaths or moving them into a senior living facility, you know how challenging doing this can be. Exhausting--emotionally and physically exhausting. 
I know there are many ways to accomplish this process--all of them require time and lots of decisions, and none of them are without effort. Our family has chosen a more hands-on method perhaps than some of you have elected, but like being on a spiritual path, no one way is the right and only way. 

Of course, this process of selling and cleaning and packing and sorting and choosing and tossing and delegating is a spiritual path, too, although sometimes it feels like a detour.

Challenges
Sunday as I waited for this charming couple to make their decision, I could feel my Sunday slipping away. I wanted to return to my "real life." I want the task of getting Dad's house ready to sell to be over --and to do what I want to do, but--and here's the rub--I don't really want to do the tasks right in front of me. When I arrive at Dad's, sometimes I am almost paralyzed. My husband and sister zoom around me, but I have a hard time revving up to get the job done. 

You may have heard writers sometimes say that what they love about writing is "having written," and not the doing of the writing itself.  I happen to love the writing process, but when it comes to Dad's house, I want it DONE. I want to look back at what we have accomplished. 

I am not present to the task OR I wonder if I am too much present to it. Either way we are in the midst of it, and it will get done, thanks to our ongoing time and efforts. We will do it--we are doing it, but I am having a hard time viewing it as anything but duty, a drain on my time and energy. I feel my own life drifting away. Where's the room for the work I feel as a call? The writing I want and need to do? The groups I would like to start and the spiritual direction practice I would like to resurrect? The reconnecting with friends and family here and staying connected with friends and family at a distance? All that seems piled away in boxes going to Goodwill. 

Pausing in the Midst
This much is clear: I need to pause occasionally, to find the moments of beauty, of grace, of love, of the Divine. I stop and watch the sparrows at the bird feeder outside our dining room window and Mr and Mrs Cardinal in the bushes. I allow my heart to open like the unbroken expanse of snow in Dad's backyard. I give myself a breather when I unearth a forgotten treasure like the tiny heart-shaped frame with a sweet picture of Mom and Dad in it. We engage in some memory sharing as we work and that lightens the load as well. I am delighted when the woman who bought many pieces of wicker for her new beauty salon sends me a thank you note. How nice is that! 

I know this work offers me lessons about shedding your stuff before your family has to do it for you, but I pray I can see the opportunities as well. How is this time as life-enhancing as sitting at my desk and writing? 

Words of Wisdom
Thomas Moore in his new book A Religion of One's Own, A Guide to Creating a Personal Spirituality in a Secular World, http://www.huffingtonpost.com/thomas-moore/finding-religion_b_3955997.html encourages "digging into your work as though it were the meaning of your life." The operative words for me are "as if." Maybe I need to fake it a bit, hoping that the doing will expand into greater meaning. Moore quotes the Gospel of Thomas in which Jesus says, "Split a piece of wood. I am there."

God is there as I schlepp more boxes to Goodwill, as we throw years of neglect and denial into garbage bags. God is in that house as we prepare it for another family's history and life. We have had ours there, and as we detach ourselves enough to do the work that needs to be done, we need to remember that this too is sacred ground. 

From the Tao Te Ching
            See simplicity in the complicated
            Achieve greatness in little things.

Today is another day in which it is necessary and good to devote myself to chopping wood, to doing the tasks one little thing at a time, to focus on what is in front of me at the moment, to breathe in the sense of God's presence around and within me. Amen

An Invitation
What aspects of your life right now feel more like a detour than your "real life"? What are your strategies for coping and growing and finding God's presence?