Compassion 101: Tuesday's Post

Some days, some weeks, knock you to your knees.

Sometimes I fall to my knees because I am stunned by personal news. Or by political or world revelations. 

Sometimes I am overwhelmed with gratitude. Sometimes my body needs to catch up with my thoughts. 

Falling to my knees and then getting back up isn't easy for this body of mine these days. My hips protest, along with my knees, but the heart overrules. "Get on your knees," I hear. 

Sometimes I drop to my knees before I even know what I am doing, but sometimes I imagine myself, head bowed, my hands folded in prayer, kneeling at the side of my bed or the chair where I meditate each morning. You know those feelings, too, I am sure; the ones that take your breath away. 

I recently decided I need a crash course in compassion. I have no problem feeling compassion when a friend calls with news of a scary health event in her family, and it is easy to move into supportive action, but compassion is not my first response at other times. I do not have compassionate thoughts towards those who refuse to understand the danger our country is in under the current leadership. 

I try to open to the words of Desmond Tutu in the book he wrote with his daughter Mpho Tutu, Made for Goodness And Why This Makes All the Difference, 
                   As human beings we may tarnish the sheen
                   or rend the fabric of our own goodness. We 
                   can act in cruel and heartless ways. But because
                   we are human, we cannot completely rip out
                   and destroy every vestige of the godliness by
                   which and for which we were made. We cannot
                   alter our essence. We are made by God, who is
                   goodness itself. We are made like God. We are
                   made for goodness.  p. 15

I confess at times I don't see or feel much goodness. And then I feel even less compassion. 

                  But we do not always act out of love. Sometimes
                  we act out our jealousy, our insecurity, our pride,
                  and our resentment. Sometimes we act out our
                  hate. No, we do not love perfectly. But God does.
                  And the more we come to emulate the divine love,
                  the more our lives are an expression of the goodness
                  that is at the heart of each of us. p. 25.

                  We can always aspire to be more compassionate
                  and more generous, not out of some dogged need
                  to be good or to be lovable, but because to give 
                  love is our greatest joy. p. 33. 

Another companion on my self-proclaimed Compassion 101 course is Joyce Rupp's book Boundless Compassion, Creating a Way of Life. She says compassion consists of "awareness, attitude and action," and requires four spiritual qualities in order to grow: nonjudgment, nonviolence, forgiveness, and mindfulness. See why I need this crash course!

I seem to be having these metaphorical and/or literal "fall to my knees" moments more often these days. When I do, I place my hands on my forehead and say, "May I be a source and reflection of kindness." Then I place my hands on my heart and say, "May I cultivate inner peace and move forward with calm reflection and wise action."

After I pick myself up, I seem more able to remember that God is always present.

                       I am here.
                       I am as close as prayer.
                       I am breathing in your breath.
                                        Made for Goodness, pp. 16-17

An Invitation
When is compassion a challenging concept for you? I would love to know. 

Other resources from my library for Compassion 101:
Twelve Steps to a Compassionate Life by Karen Armstrong
Boundless Heart, The Buddha's Path of Kindness, Compassion, joy and Equanimity by Christina Feldman
Compassion, Listening to the Cries of the World by Christina Feldman
Hallelujah Anyway, Rediscovering Mercy by Anne Lamott

Book Journal: Thursday’s Reflection

If you have been reading my blog for awhile, there are two things you know about me for sure. 

I love books. Reading books--lots and lots of books-- talking about books, reading about books, listening to podcasts about books, and keeping lists of books.

AND

I love lists--creating lists, checking items off my lists, saving lists.

The two loves come together in my Book Journal.

Last year I kept my book lists in my bullet journal, which is where I make my weekly and monthly lists, along with other miscellaneous lists and notes, but this year I decided to devote a separate journal to all things BOOK. 

This is where I maintain my TBR (To Be Read) list, an ever-growing list plus, of course, my list of what I have read, divided into fiction and nonfiction categories. I also keep track of books acquired during the year, books eliminated from my shelves, books abandoned before finishing, book ideas for other people, favorite quotations from books, selections for our book group. Recently, I added a copy of a great list of books for those traveling to England (or in my case, wishing I could travel to England), suggested by Anne Bogel in her Modern Mrs Darcy blog. (Book List) 

I know this must seem silly, over-the-top and/or obsessive compulsive. Perhaps you are shaking your head and saying, "Get a life!" or "Who cares!' 

I do hope you won't abandon reading my blog because of what seems like a trivial, time-consuming distraction from the more important concerns in life. 

Let me explain. Earlier this month I discovered my Word of the Year is Fullness (See Word of the Year) Fullness to me means staying awake to the sacred in life--and I consider books and reading sacred. Fullness is being aware of the abundance and richness in my life. Fullness does not mean avoiding the tough, the difficult, the painful, but in order to stay connected and informed and responsive, I must honor what gives me pleasure. Books and my reading life give me pleasure. Books are a part of the fullness of life, and dipping into my book journal to add a title to one of the lists reminds me of the many gifts writers and words add to my life.   

Somehow keeping a book journal enhances my ability to engage  with what I am reading, deepening the insights, the perspectives and connections and moving me towards a life lived with greater meaning and purpose.  

Tomorrow I will note on a new list my favorite books for the month of January: Kindred by Octavia Butler (fiction) and Ordinary Light, a memoir by poet Tracy K. Smith. I recommend them both.

Now excuse me, I have reading to do. 

An Invitation
What activities in your life now add to the fullness in your life? I would love to know. 

Healing in Process: Tuesday's Reflection

How happy I am to report that my daughter Kate and granddaughter Maren are healing and moving towards full recovery after their recent surgeries. What a difference almost two weeks makes! 

Kate went to church with us on Sunday and is enjoying her soft liquids diet, and Maren is now wearing a boot, wiggling her toes, and doing homework from home. Both are grateful to be on this side of surgery. 

When we decided to move back to St Paul from Madison, WI, we listed the features we wanted in a house, including a front porch, a fireplace, and a two-car garage. The house we bought didn't include any of those things, but it met our main criteria: location, location, location. We wanted to live near our daughter and her family--as in walking distance near. 

How good it has been to be so close by in these last couple weeks. When a snowstorm was predicted, we knew we could walk to their house, if driving didn't seem reasonable. If plans changed, we could be there in a matter of minutes, and if we forgot something, we could retrieve it without a problem. Mainly, we could just be there at the right time for the amount of time we were needed and then go home. 

This is a good, even powerful, stage of life--to be healthy ourselves and capable of responding to family needs--without calling a boss to take time off of work and without an elaborate process to change plans and appointments. One day I came home to meet with a spiritual direction client while Bruce remained at Kate's house and then I returned after the session --no fuss, no problem, no big expenditure of time. Yes, we are so fortunate. 

We are also fortunate because our help was desired and appreciated. Sometimes it is a challenge to know what to do, how much to do, and when to do it. I don't want to be in the way or to overstep appropriate boundaries. We let Kate and Mike know we were available and willing to do whatever was needed, and they were clear with their requests. When we offered to do something specific, they replied honestly if that would be helpful or not. We wanted them to know that they are in charge, and we are at their service. We are on their team. 

Although Maren can not yet return to school or Kate to work, some things have returned to a kind of normal. I have finally started working on my memoir again after too long of an absence. We even did some last-minute entertaining, inviting friends over for cheese and crackers and catch-up time. I paid bills and changed the bed and ironed shirts. I made my list of tasks to do this week, but have left plenty of response-time space--to do what our beloved family may need. 

I recognize what a privileged life I lead--a life of fullness; a life of opportunities for growth and connection. 
Thanks be to God! 

An Invitation
What kinds of caretaking challenges and opportunities have you had? I would love to know. 

MLK Day of Service: Thursday's Reflection

Monday was Martin Luther King, Jr Day, a national holiday and the only national holiday designated as a national day of service. For 25 years citizens have been encouraged to honor King's life with a "day on, not a day off."

In King's words, "Everybody can be great because everybody can serve."

Peter, our grandson, almost 12, and I participated in his school's day of service projects. The school's gym was full of stations where students and parents and grandparents could knit hats, tie fleece blankets, create birthday celebration bags, make cards and bookmarks--all sorts of activities. The gym was bustling with children of all ages and parents thrilled by the turn-out. 

Peter and I sorted a mountain of toiletries and filled individual bags for homeless youth. One of the women in charge of this station urged us to imagine a person who needed and would receive the colorful canvas bag packed with shampoo, body wash, bandaids, socks, and other necessities. "If you were homeless, how would it feel to know someone cared?" 

Our contribution was small, but the effort by the organizers and the collective results of all who participated is momentous. One can imagine these young people dedicating themselves to a lifetime of service. Perhaps that commitment begins on a MLK Day of Service. 

Once I read a definition of power in a book about women and power--sorry I can't remember the title or the author for I read the book years, maybe decades, ago, but the definition has stayed with me. "Power is the ability to do." Well, on MLK Day there was lots of doing, and the power in that was tangible. 

                Power at its best is love implementing the
                demands of justice. Justice at its best is love
                correcting everything that stands against love. 
                                         Martin Luther King, Jr.

These are good words to remember, by the way, as we experience the impeachment trial.

An Invitation
What did you learn about service when you were in school? I would love to know. 

Thoughts and Prayers: Tuesday's Reflection

Thank you, everyone who has said or written, "You and your family are in my thoughts and prayers," when they heard about our daughter's and our granddaughter's recent surgeries. (See January 16 post. I think even the family dog, Walter, is sending thoughts and prayers! 

Many years ago I read an article by the author of Walking the Bible, Bruce Feiler, in which he gave advice about what to say or not to say to someone with health challenges or experiencing loss. I agreed with most of what he said, except for what he said about the sentiment, "My thoughts and prayers are with you."

            In my experience, some people think about you,

            which is nice. Others pray for you, which is 

            equally comforting. But the majority of people

            who say they're sending "thoughts and prayer" are

            just falling back on a mindless cliche. It's time to

            retire this hackneyed expression to the final resting

            place of platitudes, alongside,"I'm stepping down to

            spend more time with my family," or "It's not you, it's

            me." 

I don't agree.

When I say or write  "My thoughts and prayers are with you," I am thinking about that person, praying for that person right then, in that present moment. Saying it, writing it, is praying. 

That counts.

That matters.

Isn't it a bit presumptuous to assume that people who offer those words don't actually do what they say they will do?

True, many people may never give you another thought and may not have an intentional prayer practice where they lift your name to the Divine, but I believe when someone thinks of me anytime in a loving, empathic, caring way, they are praying on my behalf. 

When someone I know is in the midst of a crisis, thoughts of them drift across my heart while I'm making the bed, folding laundry or driving to the grocery store, as well as times I am writing them a note or preparing a meal to deliver. Those are moments of prayer, even though I may not stop and fold my hands and say, Dear God, please..."

At the same time, however, I invite you to pay attention to the times when you make the "thoughts and prayers" statement. What are you feeling in that moment? Do you truly mean what you say? 

I think when you make that statement, you are entering into a covenant with the person in need of prayers and thoughts, and also with the Divine. You've said it. Now do it. Follow through. Be intentional. Set aside time. Pause. Close your eyes and breathe. See your loved one's face. Say her name. Open your heart and be with her. 

Thanks again, for your thoughts and prayer. Both of my sweet girls are making progress, and healing is underway. 

An Invitation

When was the last time you said, "My thoughts and prayers are with you."? What did your own words lead you to do? I would love to know. 

NOTES:
I've discovered that many of you have not been able to add a comment to a post. In fact, I haven't been able to reply to comments that have been successfully posted. Apparently, this is not just a problem for my blog, but many others, as well. I have been told the problem is being addressed. We'll see! In the meantime, my apologies and my thanks for reading my blog.

I adapted this post from one I wrote many years earlier for my first blog, "Sacred Sixties." 

                

Word for the Year: Thursday's Reflection

Two notes before today's reflection.
1. I've discovered that many of you have not been able to add a comment to a post. In fact, I haven't been able to reply to comments that have been successfully posted. Apparently, this is not just a problem for my blog, but many others, as well. I have been told the problem is being addressed. We'll see! In the meantime, my apologies and my thanks for reading my blog.

2.  Many of you know that both our grandaughter Maren and our daughter Kate have had surgery this week. Maren's surgery on her foot was scheduled for Tuesday morning, but a clinic snafu postponed it to this morning. In fact, she is having surgery as I write this. She will be home later today. Kate had surgery yesterday for swallowing issues and what was intended to be a 4-5 hour surgery turned into eight hours. It went well, but was more complicated than anticipated. She won't be home for a few days. Mike is a busy loving father and husband! Bruce and I feel blessed to live close-by and to be able to respond to whatever is needed. Thanks for all your prayers and good wishes. 

Now....here's today's post.

On Tuesday, January 14, I described the collage I made, hoping it would reveal my word of the year. I hoped (expected?) that when I completed the collage the word would magically reverberate in my mind and heart. Well, that didn't happen.

Some of you suggested words for me to consider--and what good words they are.
                  Flow
                  Vibrance
                  Resonance
                  Bridge
                  Connection

Before making the collage on Sunday, I wondered if my word was "unknown," for I entered the new year with a sense of unknowing. I think Kate and Maren's surgeries were driving that, but, also, the fact that I had not worked on my memoir all of November and December, and I was uncertain about re-entering that process. Much of December I had the flu and as I recovered, I admit I enjoyed the slower pace, the open space for reading and doing not much of anything. Was it time to pull back from some of my activities and plans? Was it time to settle into a life with fewer involvements?

During my morning meditation time soon after making the collage, I wrote in my journal about what I saw in the collage--vibrant color, richness, movement, variety. I wrote,
               I don't think the variety is a distraction from
               any one thing I am supposed to do. I attend to 
               my relationships and am grateful for the wide 
               circle of friends and family in my life. I am 
               not someone who flits from one thing to another.
               I complete my tasks, my projects. Generally.
               Variety speaks to my interests, to opportunities 
               that keep appearing, to a real fullness in my life
               right now. 

                             Fullness

That's it. I knew it in a flash. Fullness is my word for 2020. 

Living with fullness does not mean rushing around and filling every minute with activity nor doing everything I have done in the past or am currently doing. Instead, I think it means living with a sense of abundance and awareness of the richness in my life. In order to do that, I need to be aware of when I feel overwhelmed or more drained than energized. Discernment is still necessary. Staying awake to the sacred in my life is key. 

Note the presence of an empty bench in the collage--a reminder to maintain space for stillness. In this case the blank page in my journal led me to "fullness."

                 When we arrive at where we're supposed
                 to be in life--where we know that we have 
                 finally come home to the fullness of ourselves--
                 there will be no desire to leave it, only the need
                 to plumb it.  
                                         Joan Chittister
                                         The Art of Life

An Invitation
Is any word whispering to you? I would love to know. 

New Year’s Collage: Tuesday's Reflection

I waited. And then I waited some more.

What would my Word of the Year be? Several of my spiritual directees seemed to have discovered their word for the year. During recent sessions we discussed how the word "appeared" to them and how the word might be a guiding star in the coming year.

Last year my word was "spaciousness," and the word before that was "devotion." Those words escorted and supported me during those years, sometimes illuminating steps along the way. Part of my  entry into the new year last year was to create a collage to illustrate the word of the year, and I was eager to do that again, BUT no word of the year had yet appeared.

What should I do?

Make a collage now, silly woman. Don't wait.










I sorted through a folder of images gathered from magazines, old calendars, and greeting cards and set aside the ones that appealed to me in the moment; a quick process in which I did not analyze or question my choices. Just as intuitively, I narrowed the possibilities for my collage and started cutting and pasting:
                   * A swath of blue
                   * An African American quilt --bands of oranges, 
                     fuschias, and other bright colors
                   * An empty garden bench
                   * Chunks of colorful chalk
                   * The painting of a bridge over water
                   * Several small spirals
Over those bits and pieces I placed the cut out of an intricate tree; its branches decorated with birds, blossoms, and musical notes--all in bright colors as well. 

Voila--done! I was surprised by the amount of color in this new collage, especially compared to last year's, which is quite subdued, except for the splash of sunflowers. The 2019 collage even intentionally left some space empty. That is not the case with the recent collage. 

What do I make of this new collage? I am struck by the liveliness of the images, the richness and the variety and brightness of the colors. I also see movement there --in the spirals, the wavy bars of color, and I sense vibrations in the tree branches. At the same time the bench invites me to stillness--there is room for someone to join me. Finally, I am drawn to the bridge, especially the arch under the bridge, a passageway, an opening. 

Alas, my word for 2020 remains unknown. Perhaps I won't have a word of the year or perhaps the word won't be revealed until March or April, but what I have in the meantime is an ongoing invitation to a vibrant and full life. I hung the collage near my desk in the garret, and I trust its energy will encourage and guide me. More will be revealed in time. 

Sometimes waiting is exactly what we need to do, but sometimes it is important to take the next step without knowing all the answers. 

An Invitation
Are you waiting for a certain answer or the "right" conditions? What would happen if you bypassed your expectation and moved forward? I would love to know.