So Many Needed Prayers

 

How do I begin? And once I begin, how do I come to an "Amen"?

The need for prayers is unending. Has it always been this way? Yes, of course, it has. The world and all its people have always needed the kind of holding, the kind of attention and awareness, the kind of connection and conversation that prayer creates. 

But today, right now, is what I carry with me into prayer time--the time set aside for prayer and then the almost unconscious time for prayer that I wear like a sweater on these cool days. 

At this very minute I hear a siren--first, quite faint, and then more distinct--and I whisper, "May all be well." My first intentional prayer of the day, but I know more will follow. 

When I am not too overwhelmed by worries and concerns--big ones and little ones--I try to enter prayer with gratitude. Oh, yes the usual ones of gratitude for the health and the well-being of my family, for our home and church and community and the love of good friends, but I also try to note particular joys and delights, the unwrapped presents I've received.

An email from a church friend sharing the delights in her life.

A drive in our little car along the river--color in the bluffs, eagles in the sky, sailboats on the river, friends and conversation and pie in an outdoor setting.

Pumpkins. More pumpkins. Pumpkins on the patio. Pumpkins in "Paris."

Applesauce for dinner.

Reading time on the patio, wrapped in a shawl.

Completion finally of the draft for a new chapter.

A leisurely walk in the neighborhood. "Look, the witches are holding hands," I hear two little girls exclaim, and I think, "Why don't we all hold hands?"

A new flannel shirt.

A good annual physical with a doctor new to me, and I am relieved to really like her.

Roses still blooming in the garden.

And then I turn to what is on my heart. Who am I holding? What transformation is needed around and within me? Where is there hurt, fear, a lack of hope and what words, what actions can I offer?

I know some of what I pray is on your lips as well--prayers for our country and for the upcoming election, prayers for the homeless, for the food insecure, prayers for all those who are oppressed, who need justice. 

A big list. A long list. An important list.

And then I turn to the specific on my heart: the friend undergoing chemotherapy for a serious cancer; our daughter-in-love's father awaiting a liver transplant, our granddaughter as she faces college applications, the two detained immigrants and the healthcare workers on the front lines who I write to weekly, friends who are grieving the loss of their only son, and many others. 

A big list. A long list. An important list.

And then I return to the joys, the delights, the list of gratitudes that grows when I pay attention: this quiet time, the comfort of the Girlfriend Chair, the sound of Bruce fixing his breakfast and opening the door to get the paper, the fresh air coming through a barely open skylight, the journal almost completed, but another one awaits. And the openness of the day. Yes, tasks to do, but on my own time, my own schedule. More delights to discover. 

Amen.

An Invitation
What brings you to prayer? What do you pray for? I would love to know.

Some Recommendations from Last Week

1.   Gloria Dei Lutheran Church This is actually on ongoing recommendation. Our Sunday online worship services are amazing--the sermons, the music, the creativity, the personal connection, and you are invited. Perhaps you are unchurched and feeling a need to experience worship again. Perhaps you are committed to a faith community and will remain so, but your church doesn't have the ability to produce a well-done online worship time. Or perhaps as a reader of my blog who is Jewish said to me, "It is clear how important your church is to you, and I am just curious about it." Come. 

2.    Podcast: The Confessional with Nadia Bolz-Weber, specifically the September 22 episode with journalist Maria Hinojosa.

3.    An article in The Atlantic on the definition of reparations. :  https://www.theatlantic.com/ideas/archive/2019/06/reparations-definition-2020-candidates/590863/.

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. 

A Quiet Moment: Thursday's Reflection

For the first time since last fall, I sat in the garden at the side of our house, a garden we call "Paris." The sun was warm--no sweater was required--and even though all was still plain and brown, I relished my return to this quiet space.

After reading for twenty minutes or so, I closed my eyes and imagined myself opening French doors from a small, but oh so chic Parisian apartment and walking out into a private square of greenery and sunshine. Traffic may be buzzing beyond the hedge, but for the moment there is only this--luxurious quiet and the bare breath of a breeze. 

I took deep cleansing breaths, in and out, and felt my shoulders relax, my scalp release its tightness, and my hands unclench. In my Paris garden there is no hurt, no pain or fear, no loss, no worries.

With my next breath I lifted my heart to all who need hope or support or reassurance. 

Welcome to my Paris garden. 

May you find solace here. 

May you feel restored. 

Here you can be gentle with yourself. Here is nourishment. 

Here your spirit is fed. 

Breathe, just breathe. 


An Invitation
Where is your Paris garden? Your place of retreat? I would love to know.

Advent Mornings: Thursday's Reflections

As you faithful readers know, I begin my days with meditation/devotion time. I wrap a shawl around my shoulders and sit back luxuriously in my Girlfriend Chair, my feet up on an ottoman covered in vintage fabrics. I close my eyes and breathe deeply to find my own rhythm and eventually, I open my current devotional book and awaken to inspiration and reflection for the day.

Eager for the beginning of Advent, over the weekend I shopped my bookshelves and gathered a stack of materials to companion me during the days leading to Christmas. Old favorites. Three books by Jan Richardson and also a book by Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan I read years ago, The First Christmas, What the Gospels Really Teach About Jesus's Birth. Of course, my Bible and my journal were close by, too. 

I also made copies of the outline of a labyrinth. Last year I drew a series of mandalas during Advent Read here. and I considered doing that again this year, but how about, instead, coloring labyrinths? I wonder what doing that might reveal to me.

And finally, I added to the already teetering pile a precious small journal a friend gave me when she visited this fall. The lightly textured cover is in shades of blue, the color of Advent, and the paper is silky, beckoning my fountain pen. I decided to use this small book to record quotations that resonate or perplex or comfort or engage me during these weeks.

I was ready. Bring on Advent!

Here's what happened.

Monday: I began my day by taking a shower and dressing first, instead of retreating for meditation time. I had to reverse my usual order because we were getting a new furnace and the heating guys would arrive early. By the time I had put my feet up, the clatter and chatter had begun. Silence was shattered and so was my meditation time. 

Tuesday: I called this my Marathon Day. Events were scheduled morning, afternoon, and evening with little space in between. Once again, instead of beginning my day with quiet, I did what I needed to do to leave the house for the first event of the day. And to do it extremely carefully because the roads were covered in ice and a slight layer of new snow. All went well.

Wednesday: Ah, finally. The first day of Advent for me. And how rich it was. I read Jan Richardson's words:

           "...this presence who goes with us as day gives
            way to darkness."     

I wrote in my journal about the gifts of the previous two days and  realized how the Presence had been my companion, even though my usual routine had been upended. 

Morning time grounds me and offers the space I need to uncover the person God created me to be, but sometimes life happens and the day has other plans for me. It is at those times I most need to open to the Presence who companions me. Advent is in the quiet, and Advent is in the movement of our lives.

An Invitation
In what ways do you sense the companionship of the Sacred? I would love to know. 

Entering a New Month, a New Season: Tuesday's Reflection

Today is September 1. Have you done anything different than what you normally do on a Tuesday? Or has the day gone pretty much the way it generally does? Did you wake up thinking, "Wow, today's the beginning of a new month, the beginning of a new season"? Did you have a little nudge from someplace deep within to perhaps do something different, something new, to treat yourself to a fresh start in some aspect of your life or to return to a familiar, but set aside pattern?

What does your September calendar look like? For many, obviously, September means returning to school as a student or teacher or parents of students. September means the restart of many activities and perhaps a return to routine after lighter, looser days of summer. 

I am quite amazed when I look at my September calendar and see how full it is already. For one thing, we have a road trip planned to see family and friends, but other events dot the calendar. 
      * A lecture by Atul Gawande, the author of Being Mortal 
      * A visit from a friend timed so we hear Elizabeth Gilbert talk about her new book, Big Magic, Creative Living Beyond Fear                
      * A Saturday workshop about writing memoir by a local author, Elizabeth Andrew, sponsored by Wisdom Ways.
      * Book Club. We will discuss Ian McEwan's The Children Act
      * Monthly appointments with my spiritual directees.
      * The retreat I am co-facilitating, "Growing Older With Grace, Spiritual Practices for the Second Half of Life"

And, of course, there will be our own version of back-to school duties. Taking or picking up our grandkids Peter and Maren from school and doing some volunteering at the elementary school. I am planning to work in the library one afternoon a week. We love being able to be part of their lives in this way.

Oh, and writing time. I have a long list of writing activities. Writing has been part of my daily routine all summer and I intend to continue that habit. 

With one set of good friends, I am referred to as "Nancy the Cruise Director," for I am usually, but not always, the one who comes up with an idea of something fun or interesting to do or somewhere to visit. This summer, for example, I organized our Donut Day Adventure and also the evening at the ballpark to view the movie Field of Dreams. On the fall docket is Soda Fountain Day and drives to see fall colors. All good fun and not to be missed. 

How easy it is to fill the calendar. How much you fill it is in part related to your energy and interest level, your relationships and social network, your work situation, even your financial status. I wonder, however, how conscious you are about leaving empty space in your calendar. I wonder how you view the empty spaces. Does it feel like you need to fill your weeks or does a day without any notation on the calendar comes as a relief, giving you time to breathe? 

How much do you take charge yourself of what is entered on your calendar? 

I know I must have time to sit in the quiet, to meditate, to read. To sink deeply into spiritual practice. And sometimes that means giving up something else. Sometimes it means staying home from something I have previously agreed to attend. I think of those times as "life happens" times or more accurately, too much life has happened, and I need a time out in order to be in my life more fully. I am quite good, actually, knowing when I need to erase planned time on the calendar.

September seems like a good time to look with new eyes at how you use your time. Your calendar can become a tool for spiritual practice for you, a way to stay awake and aware of how you are moving in the world and how present you are to the movement of the Sacred in your life.

An Invitation
What's on your calendar for September? Is there enough room on the calendar for deepening your spiritual life? I would love to know.  

A Change in Direction: Tuesday's Reflection

Here we are in the last week of August. I can hear you saying, "Where has summer gone?" I know where most of my summer has gone--into my book project. I have spent the bulk of these summer days in my garret. I don't regret that, but I can't recall another summer in which I have felt so focused.

What about you? As you think about this summer, has there been a focus? When summer stretched in front of you, what did you imagine? Did you think about how you intended to live in this summer? If so, how has that worked out? Did life intervene and change the course of your summer or did you surrender to the summer breezes and allow the days to take you where they would?

What surprises did this summer hold for you? Any new directions enter your life?

Early this summer my husband and I spent a few days in Door County, Wisconsin. For many years that is where we have gone for rest and relaxation. When we have wanted a "time-out," Door County is where we wanted to be. We have gathered family and friends there over the years, and one summer we rented a house for a month. I stayed there the whole time, and Bruce joined me for long weekends. It was heaven.

This most recent time, as wonderful as it was, especially spending time with good friends who live there, we felt a slight shift. One day we took the ferry to Washington Island to see the new lavender fields and shop and the good bookstore and one of Bruce's all-time favorite coffee shops, Red Cup Cafe, but we also found ourselves wondering what it would be like to spend a week or even longer there, as opposed to just a day. A more isolated time.

We have loved the combination of good restaurants and shops and galleries on the peninsula, but much of that no longer seemed to draw us. We began to have "been there, done that" feelings. What seemed to appeal more was settling in a simple and quiet cottage with a water view. We imagined ourselves spending our days with our books, fixing simple meals, walking the shore, napping, and not much else. That feels like a gentle switch in direction. 

Now here's the next switch in direction. When we drove north to Ely, Minnesota, to pick up our granddaughter from camp, I could feel a pull, a tug. A yearning. The sparkling blue water and shorelines where cabins and homes were rarely visible welcomed me. I felt another world open up in front of my eyes --and in my heart.  I felt both a serene awakening.

Our orientation for many years has been Wisconsin. My parents owned a wonderful home on Teal Lake in northern Wisconsin, and many summer weekends and winter ones, too, our family gathered there. When we lived in Ohio, we often headed to Door County, in spite of the distance, making our Madison years even more special because of the easier access to Door County.  

Now we are in Minnesota again. My parents' sold the Teal Lake home many years ago, and we are again further away from Door County. It is time for a change of direction--due north, it seems. 

We look forward to this change in direction, to exploring areas where we have not been for a long time or not ever. My Dad tells me I was in Ely when I was a little girl. 2? 3? And Bruce remembers camping in the Boundary Waters when he was around 10. I guess it has been long enough to consider forming new memories, new impressions, and to bring who we are now into a new direction. 

I am not much of an outdoor person. I won't be canoeing in the Boundary Waters or going on strenuous hikes. What I imagine, however, is similar to how I envisioned us spending our days on Washington Island with its much slower pace: reading our books, fixing simple meals, walking the shore, napping. And meditating, praying, spending time in quiet reflection.

The change in direction is not only one of place, but of focus. The gentle change in direction, it seems, is towards the inner life of spirit. 

An Invitation
Are you noticing any change of direction in your life? I would love to know. 

A Summer Prayer by Joyce Rupp: Tuesday's Post

What a wonderful summer we are having, and I hope that is the case for you, too. Are you a summer person who looks forward to this time of year most of the rest of the year? I have always declared myself to be a winter person, but this year I am enjoying each day, even the wildly humid ones, more than in the past. Perhaps that has to do with my age and the desire to savor each day, no matter what.

All of a sudden it will be August and then September and on it goes, so this week, mid-July already, seems like a good time to take a deep breath, a pause, and to be present to this summer. 

How would you describe this summer of your life? Are you doing what you intended to do? What's on your summer list? Where is this summer leading you?

One of my seasonal spiritual guides is The Circle of Life, The Heart's Journey Through the Seasons by Joyce Rupp and Macrina Wiederkehr. Each season I turn to this book for a way to encounter the days in a deeper way, a way that aligns my inner spirit with the outward changes I see as I walk and move in the world. 

In that spirit I offer "A Summer Prayer." (pp 119-120) I invite you to read through this prayer, perhaps more than once. What lines resonate with you the most? What is the state of your summer soul? Where is there ease and absence of winter worries? Where is there growth and transformation, much to your surprise? How is summer inviting you to rest and to heal? Where are you headed this summer and how will you know when you are there?

Let us begin.

                       A Summer Prayer

May you breathe in the beauty of summer with its power of transformation.
May this beauty permeate all that feels un-beautiful in you. 

          May the God of summer give us beauty. 

May you seek and find spaces of repose during these summer months.
May these moments refresh and restore the tired places within you.

          May the God of summer give us rest.

May you be open to times of celebration and recreation that are so much a part of summer.
May you find happiness in these times of play and leisure.

          May the God of summer give us joy.

May your eyes see the wonders of summer's colors.
May these colors delight you and entice you into contemplation and joy.

          May the God of summer give us inner light.

May you feel energy of summer rains penetrating thirsty gardens, golf courses, lawns and farmlands.
May these rains remind you that your inner thirst needs quenching. 
May your inner self be refreshed, restored, and renewed.
         
         May the God of summer give us what we need for healing.

May you savor fresh produce that comes to your table and enjoy the fruits of summer's bounty.

          May the God of summer give us a sense of satisfaction in the works of our hands.

May you find shelter when the stormy skies of summer threaten your safety.

          May the God of summer give us shelter when inner storms threaten our peace of mind and heart.

May you enjoy the unexpected and find surprises of beauty and happiness as you travel the roads on summer vacation.

          May the God of summer lead us to amazing discoveries as we travel the inner roads of our soul as well. 

An Invitation
How did this prayer speak to you? I would love to know. 

Resources
Joyce Rupp http://www.joycerupp.com
Macrina Weiderkehr http://www.macrinawiederkehr.com/about 

The Pause That Refreshes: Thursday's Reflection

Every morning as I climb the stairs to my garret for my meditation time, I pause and look out the windows towards the back yard. My first pause of the day. Thanks to the Head Gardener at our house, the view is one of evolving beauty and joy, and in this brief pause I offer thanks for the gift of another day and for the privilege I have of sharing my life with someone who shares his gifts so abundantly. 

I sit in my comfortable chair and read a chapter in my current devotional book, pausing periodically to reread words that resonate or words that puzzle me or words that just bear repeating. "Generating joy, we enter and offer joy. Generating peace, we enter and offer peace. Generating stillness, we enter and offer equanimity." The Grace in Aging, Awaken As You Grow Older, Kathleen Dowling Singh http://www.kathleendowlingsingh.com

I meditate, intentional pausing, taking deep breaths, finding my own rhythm. I note where my thoughts land, and I attempt to ease them from the space at least for the moment. I sit quietly a few minutes longer, lifting names or concerns or gratitudes in prayer. I open my eyes and take a deep breath, feeling a bit more prepared for the day. 

I move to my desk to check my email, and today Isee the name of a dear friend from another time of my life. We don't communicate often, but there is a heart connection. I pause and hold loving thoughts of her. Soon I will create a pause in the day in which to write to her. 

It is tempting to stay at my desk and begin the day's writing, but instead, I head outside for my morning walk. I know the main purpose of my walk is exercise, but it seems I find many reasons to pause --sometimes in praise of someone's gardening talents or just to appreciate an interesting looking home. Sometimes I pause to send a blessing, if a home looks neglected or if I hear sounds of children in their early morning exuberance. 

One house I pass frequently seems to my judging eyes in need of care, but I often hear through the open windows the sound of someone playing a guitar and singing softly. I pause to check my need to fill in the blanks, to understand and make sense of why this house looks so shabby and uncared for and yet, there is music being made there. All that is asked of me in this present moment is to whisper, "May all be well." 

I continue through my day, writing the next post for this blog, working on a chapter for my book, answering emails, giving feedback to the members of my small group in the online writing class I am taking, perhaps doing some laundry, making a trip to the grocery store, checking in with my Dad, having casual conversations with Bruce as he goes through his own agenda for the day, fixing dinner, and so it goes. I respond to what the day brings, and if I am mindful, I pause now and then. 

In those brief, barely noticeable moments of pause, I become more present. I clear the space. I open my heart. Singh refers to "sublime abiding." I love that term. In the pause I hold everything a bit lighter. 

Last evening after dinner I took a book and went to our sanctuary side garden we call Cotswold. I had thought about returning to my desk in the garret to write, for I had not completed my self-assigned writing assignment, but instead I had paused at the bottom of the stairs. I listened, just listened, and I think I heard the hydrangeas growing at the base of our front steps. I think I heard the sweet statue of the little girl adjust her position just a bit. I heard the moment call to me, "Come sit and be." 

And that's what I did. 

An Invitation
When do you pause? What happens when you do? I would love to know.  

Thursday's Reflection: Always Time for Spiritual Practice.

One of my first tasks of the day is to open the shades in the entry and dining room, just as one of the last tasks of the day is to close the shades. If I am aware, that simple homey gesture becomes a time of prayer --morning and night time prayers, bookending the day.

       Thank you for a restful night's sleep 
       and for the grace
       of a new day. May I move through it
       in openness and with love and
      compassion.
                                             

       Thank you for the gift of the day now ending.  I am
       grateful for the many riches I have received today. 
       Forgive me for the ways I have been more closed than 
       open. May the rest I receive tonight lead me to be present 
       to the light that flows within and around me.  

It is possible for most anything we do to become a spiritual practice, especially "If you approach it in the right way--with intentionality, humility, receptivity, hope. And of course with an attentive eye on the activity of the divine." (The Sacred Year, Michael Yankoski, p. 12) http://www.michaelyankoski.com/#sthash.YQXNbcQ3.dpbs 

I can be intentional about being present to activities I enjoy and welcome doing, no matter how ordinary. For example, I enjoy most aspects of home tending, even cleaning bathrooms and kitchens.  I start dinner in the evening and as I chop and stir and simmer I can give thanks for this daily sustenance, and I pray for all those who go hungry. I can sweep the front steps and breathe in the glories of the sun or the crispness of the air. At the ironing board I can smooth the creases in my husband's shirts and be grateful for the love we share. I can put away the books and papers accumulated in my office over the days and feel such gratitude for the freedom I have to read and write for hours on end. I can and do pray my way through the day--as long as it goes smoothly, and I am doing something I enjoy doing.

What happens, however, when I am doing something that I don't enjoy doing? I don't like to vacuum or lug bags of groceries in from the car and then unpack them. I am not crazy about folding the laundry or changing the bed. I get frustrated when I am doing errands and I get stuck in traffic or when I am not able to find what I need in the grocery store. Viewing those times as an opportunity for spiritual practice usually doesn't occur to me. However, I know that by filling my life with intentional spiritual practices which simply put are "ways of seeing and being in the world that help us wake up and become fully, truly alive." (Fully Awake and Truly Alive, Spiritual Practices to Nurture Your Soul, Rev. Jane Vennard, p. xviii) http://www.sdiworld.org/resources/educational-videos/reverend-jane-e-vennard I am more likely to ground myself in light and love when hit with times of stress, fear, grief and loss. 

Father Thomas Keating who teaches the spiritual practice of centering prayer http://www.centeringprayer.com says, "The only way to judge your practice is by its long-range fruits: whether in daily life you enjoy greater peace, humility and charity." Who doesn't want to live a more loving and compassionate life? 

Examples of Spiritual Practices
When considering spiritual practices, most people think about reading the Bible or praying at certain times of the day. Or meditating. I write in my journal, and that is one of my main spiritual practices, but I also walk a labyrinth when I can and in the past one of my main spiritual practices was doing Tai Chi. Meeting with a spiritual director is a spiritual practice, as is going on retreats or a pilgrimage. 

But what about making music, baking bread, pulling weeds, cleaning your house, driving a parent to a doctor's appointment, volunteering at your grandchild's school, sitting with a friend who is recovering from surgery, attending a yoga class, reading or writing poetry, walking along the river every morning? 

Barbara Brown Taylor http://www.barbarabrowntaylor.com wrote a wonderful book called An Altar in the World, A Geography of Faith says, "No one's spiritual practice is exactly like anyone else's. Life meets each of us where we need to be met, leading us to the doors with our names on them." 

If what you do at any moment opens you to the fullness of life and fills your heart with love and compassion and gratitude and a new awareness of our own essence, you are in the midst of a spiritual practice. How exciting is that? 

Vennard writes about on-cushion and off-cushion practices, (p.  xx) using Buddhist language. On-cushion practices are the more structured and formal practices and in the Buddhist tradition that would be meditation time. Off-cushion practices are spontaneous and informal and can happen and be available to us at any time, for in any moment there is the opportunity to be mindful. I think, as does Vennard, that a combination of both off and on-cushion practices are necessary to live a fully awakened life, and one leads to the other which leads back to the other and so on. A wonderful circular  energy.  

Barbara Brown Taylor adds further illumination about on-cushion and off-cushion spiritual practices, although she doesn't use those words. She writes about practices of walking the earth, getting lost, encountering others, living with purpose, feeling pain, and other ways of living fully. This is what she says about living her life as a spiritual practice.

          My life depends on engaging the most ordinary physical
          activities with the most exquisite attention I can give
          them. My life depends on ignoring all touted distinctions
          between the secular and the sacred, the physical and the
          spiritual, the body and the soul. What is saving my life
          now is becoming more fully human, trusting that there
          is no way to God apart from real life in the real world. 
                                                                         p. xv 

Yes and Amen. 

An Invitation
What on-cushion spiritual practices are part of your life? What do you do in your ongoing day-to day existence that with greater focus and intention could become off-cushion practices? In what ways can you fill your life with spiritual practices? I would love to know. 
         

Tuesday's Reflections: Moving into the New Year

These are cold days here in Minnesota, and I am not inclined to leave the warmth and coziness of our house. Instead, I become a bear, which in Native American spirituality symbolizes introspection, and I willingly hibernate. My hibernation is not so much about escaping from the cold or taking a time out from life's varied activities, especially after the busyness of the holidays, but rather this is a time to reset my timer and my pace, and to guide me towards my intentions , direction and outlook for living in this new year.  

Creating a Container of Space: A Meditation
Perhaps, you need a time of hibernation and introspection, too. Perhaps, you feel a bit muddled about direction for this new year or you may feel a bit reluctant to let go of what was and move to what is and what can be. If so, here's a way to begin.  

Close your eyes, lightly, not tightly, and take deep cleansing breaths until you find your own easy rhythm. 

Picture a square. Choose a corner of that square. Count to four as you slowly inhale, keeping your focus on the corner of the square you have chosen.

As you exhale, move to the next corner, reaching it on the count of four. Rest in that corner, inhaling to four.

Leave the corner on the exhale and move to the third corner. Inhale again. Exhale again as you move to the corner where you started this journey. Inhale again to complete the square.

Notice the space you have created as you gently inhale and exhale. Notice the boundaries and the space outside of the square. You have created a container of sacred space in which you can rest and restore and reset what needs to be refreshed. 

Your sacred space is also a space of exploration. What is inside the square with you? What is there no longer room for in your space? What would like to enter the space with you? What is hovering outside the space, just barely within sight, but you know it is there, awaiting a welcome from you? What questions, images, sounds arise as you move within your sacred space? In what ways are you challenged to expand the boundaries of your own experience? Move into the center of the square and pay attention to what that feels like.

When you are ready, open your eyes and take a deep cleansing breath. This breath releases all tension you might be holding without erasing the sacred space you have created for yourself. This space can be a sanctuary whenever you need it, allowing you to connect with your inner voice, with Spirit, whenever you need it. You can breathe yourself into awareness of the holy. You can breathe yourself into deeper understanding of who you were created to be. 

          If we choose to believe that there are many questions
          to life, we must also believe that the answers to these
          questions reside within us. Each and every being has 
          the capacity to quiet the mind, enter the silence and
         know. 
                           Jamie Sams and David Carson
                           Medicine Cards, The Discovery of Power
                           Through The Ways of Animals, p. 57
                           http://www.medicinecards.com
                            
Working With My Square
I spent time at the beginning of this week responding to a New Year's Exercise for Writers posed by Mary Carroll Moore, the facilitator of the online writing class I took this fall. http://howtoplanwriteanddevelopabook.blogspot.com She suggested listing writing accomplishments of this past year, grounding oneself in the strengths of the past year. That is not always easy to do, but frankly, I was quite surprised at what I did in 2014, even though it was a challenging year in a variety of ways and a year in which I thought my writing goals had taken a back seat. The next step was to examine what writing has given me this past year, and words like purpose, balance, stability, joy and pleasure, inner growth, structure, and self-confidence came tumbling out on the page. 

Then, and only then, was it time to look ahead to this new year. "Imagine yourself at the end of 2015," the exercise prompts, "what would you most want to accomplish during the year?"  

I sat quietly, closed my eyes and breathed myself back to the sacred space I had created. I moved from corner to corner and then rested in the center, allowing the litany of possibilities to flow over and through and around me. As always, there is so much I want to do, so much I hope to accomplish, and with each new year, I am more and more aware of the need not to set aside, not to put off what is most important. Within my sacred space, I found clarity, at least for the moment and I now feel more prepared to enter this new year. 

         May your coming year be filled with magic and 
         dreams and good madness. I hope you read some
         fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're
         wonderful. And don't forget to make some art--write
         or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And,
         I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise
         yourself. 
                                 Neil Gaiman

An Invitation
I invite you to create your inner sacred space as you enter this new year. Perhaps use the Mary Carroll Moore's questions as a guide and allow yourself to see what comes into clearer view and how you are called to live this year? What are you prepared to do to make this year one that finds you being the person you were created to be? I would love to know. 

Tuesday Reflection: Past, Present, and Future

Dear Friends, Today I offer you the words of a choral piece I heard this past weekend at a performance of the National Lutheran Choir.  I offer this as a source of reflection and meditation as you move through the day--through this month, which always seems to surge towards the holidays and into the beginning of winter. 




The Present Tense
(From Magnificat For A New Millennium)
Fred Kaan

                Thank you, O God, for the time that is now,
                for all the newness your minutes allow;
                keep us alert with your presence of mind
                to fears and longings that move mankind.

                Thank you, O God, for the time that is past,
                for all the values and thoughts that will last.
                May we all stagnant tradition ignore,
                leaving behind things that matter no more.

                Thank you for hopes of the day that will come,
                for all the change that will happen in time;
                God! For the future our spirits prepare,
                hallow our doubts and redeem us from fear.

                Make us afraid of the thoughts that delay,
                faithful in all the affairs of today;
                Keep us, Creator, from playing it safe,
                thank you that now is the time of our life!

Suggestions for Reflection
Read through this poem slowly and note what resonates with you. What words and phrases stand out for you? Reread it and pay attention to where you want to glide over the words and move on to the next thought. Of course, those are the exact words of opening and discovery for you--pinprick words that invite you to pay attention and go a little deeper.

Read this piece aloud. After each stanza pause and let the words roll around you and within you. Stop reading them the way we read the mail or the headlines of the newspaper or the novel on our bedside table and instead, listen to them. Whose voice do you hear? What are the words beneath the words being whispered to you? What is the call within these words just for you? 

Are there lines that bring someone else to mind? If so, those lines can be your prayer for that person, but let those lines be an invitation into your own heart. Where do you need to open? What is the message for you?

An Invitation
In the present where are you not alert?
What parts of the past need to be left behind?
How can you move into the future without fear?
In what ways are you delaying and playing it safe?
I would love to know.

"thank you that now is the time of our life!"

Thursday's Reflection: Beginning the Day

Have you noticed how much longer it takes for morning light to appear? The bedside lamp needs to remain on longer than it did even a week ago or so it seems, and it is a bit harder to get out of bed into the darkness and the coolness. I linger in the warmth of our bed longer, even though I am awake. 

I wonder if this gradual movement from one season calls us to a different kind of movement; an inner movement. I invite you to think about the way you start your day. Newspaper? Coffee? Listen to the news? Are you starting your morning the way you always have even though your personal season has changed? Might there be a space in your morning to quietly greet the day? Would you be willing to offer a blessing for the gift of the new day and to ask for a blessing on all the day presents to you before you even stir from bed? What might happen if your routine included time with God, however, you define God, or with the best part of yourself? 

Consider using the lure of staying in bed a bit longer to begin a practice of morning prayer or meditation.

A Sampler of Prayers for the Morning Time

Beloved Friend, I open myself to be of service. Please help me be your arms and willingly hold those who need a healing touch. Open my eyes that I may truly see what you ask of me today. Open my ears that I may truly hear and respond to the cries of joy and sorrow from your children. May the words of my mouth be the meditations of your hear and may I sow peace wherever I go. Amen 
(An unknown source)

Two from Illuminata by Marianne Williamson

Dear God,
I give this day to You.
May my mind stay centered on the things of spirit.
May I not be tempted to stray from love.
As I begin this day, I open to receive You.
Please enter where You already abide.
May my mind and heart be pure and true, and may I not
     deviate from the things of goodness.
May I see the love and innocence in all mankind, behind the
     masks we all wear and the illusions of this worldly plane.
I surrender to You my doings this day.
I ask only that they serve You and the healing of the world.
May I bring Your love and goodness with me, to give unto 
     others wherever I go.
Make me the person You would have me be.
Direct my footsteps, and show me what You would have me do.
Make the world a safer, more beautiful place.
Bless all your creatures.
Heal us all, and use me dear Lord, that I might know the joy of
     being used by You.
Amen

Dear God,
Thank you for this new day, its beauty and its light.
Thank You for my chance to begin again.
Free me from the limitations of yesterday.
Today may I be reborn.
May I become more fully a reflection of Your radiance.
Give me strength and compassion and courage and wisdom.
Shed the light in myself and others.
May I recognize the good that is available everywhere.
May I be this day, an instrument of love and healing.
Lead me into gentle pastures.
Give me deep peace that I might serve You most deeply.
Amen.

Two From Life Prayers, edited by Elizabeth Roberts and Elias Amidon

May my feet rest firmly on the ground
May my head touch the sky
May I see clearly
May I have the capacity to listen
May I be free to touch
May my words be true
May my heart and mind be open
May my hands be empty to fill the need
May my arms be open to others
May my gifts be revealed to me
So I may return that which has been given
Completing the circle.
                           The Terma Collective

May all being be peaceful, happy, and light in body and mind.
May all beings be safe and free from accidents.
May all beings be free from anger, unwholesome states of mind, 
     fear, and worries.
May all beings know how to look at themselves with the eyes of
     understanding and love.
May all beings be able to recognize and touch the seeds of joy and
     happiness in themselves.
May all beings learn how to nourish themselves with joy each day.
May all beings be able to live fresh, solid, and free.
May all beings not fall into the state of indifference or caught in
      the extremes of attachment and aversion.
                                        Thich Nhat Hanh

From "A Morning Offering" by John O'Donohue

I bless the night that nourished my heart
To set the ghosts of longing free
Into the flow and figure of dream
That went to harvest from the dark
Bread for the hunger no one sees.

All that is eternal in me
Welcomes the wonder of this day,
The field of brightness it creates
Offering time for each thing
To arise and illuminate.
…

May I have the courage today 
To live the life that I would love,
To postpone my dream no longer
But do at last what I came here for
And waste my heart on fear no more. 


If one of these prayers resonates with you, lift it up. Perhaps there is a phrase or line or two that speaks to you.  If so, offer that to the wonders of the morning or listen to the words of your own heart, rising from the dark into the slowly growing light. In the quiet of the morning you may discover your mantra or inspiration for the day. May it be so. 

An Invitation
What is your morning routine? Does it include time for devotion or meditation? If so, how does that time prepare you for the rest of the day? If not, would you be willing to give it a try for a few weeks? I would love to know. 

Tuesday's Reflection: Smile

Practicing My Smile! 

Once upon a time a dear friend and I had a conversation about the expressions we wear in the world. We had both noticed that we often look as if we are angry or frustrated or bored or unapproachable. We realized that we scowl more than we smile, even though our feelings in the moment in no way match the look we present to the world. Since that revealing conversation, I have been more aware of looking pleasant, even when I am waiting in a long line or when my ankle hurts from walking just a bit too far. I admit I don't always live up to this personal goal, but I am working on it, and I recently I have received some help along the way. 

Smiling in The Morning
My first reminder comes from Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Buddhist monk who makes me smile just thinking about him and the abundance of wisdom he shares with the world. On my bedside table right now is a little book called Present Moment, Wonderful Moment, Mindfulness Verses for Daily Living. This book highlights everyday, ordinary activities like washing your hands and turning on the computer with simple verses called gathas and a reflection on the specific verse. 

The first verse is about waking up.
        Waking up this morning I smile.
        Twenty-four brand new hours are before me.
        I vow to live fully in each moment
        and to look at all beings with eyes of compassion. 

The reflection about this verse says, "Your smile affirms your awareness and determination to live in peace and joy. How many days slip by in forgetfulness? What are you doing with your life? Look deeply, and smile. The source of a true smile is an awakened mind. " (p. 7)

I smile at the idea that a smile is a sign of my determination to live in peace and joy, for often I think the expression on my face is one of determination. I am determined to accomplish the task I have set out to do and to do it efficiently and successfully. I am determined to keep moving on to the next thing without interruption or delay. What a wonderful concept that by smiling I announce my determination to live in peace and joy and to cultivate an awakened mind.  I don't have an awakened mind, however, and therefore, I need to practice smiling. The spiritual practice of smiling! 

Practicing an Inner Smile
My second lesson in smiling comes from another book, Roaming Free Inside the Cage, A Daoist Approach to the Enneagram and Spiritual Transformation by William M. Schafer, Ph.D., which introduced me to the Daoist meditation practice called the Inner Smile. Schafer says the Inner Smile is a "wonderful antidote to the Inner Frown." My Inner Frown often manifests as an Outer Frown, but not too surprisingly, the Inner Smile becomes an Outer Smile, and I feel the peace and joy I say I want to create and live. 

Here's how to do it:
      Put your fingers to the corners of your mouth and rub them
      outward along the smile line. Feel your face soften.
      Gently place the tip of your tongue to the roof of your
      mouth, just behind your upper front teeth. Do it 
      gently, don't push. Rub your fingers along the smile
      lines some more. Feel what happens inside your face. 
      Can you feel your mouth soften? Now let the softness
      fall from your mouth down inside your chest. You can
      let the smile go right to your heart. Take a full breath.
      Feel the softness…Draw the next breath all the way down
      into the belly, under your solar plexus. Keep smiling.
      Let yourself feel how present, joyful, and aware you
      are this very moment. p. 46. 

It works; it really does, and the inner smile spreads, becoming an outer smile. Try it. What's the worst that can happen? 

An Invitation
How do you look to the world? Is that the way you want the world to see you? What happens when you are intentional about smiling? I would love to know.