Pausing for Joy

joy
This
This is the way forward:
For just a moment to release my fears
And to turn in grateful joy to notice the kindness around me
And to smile and give thanks for its presence
To point it out to others
And to laugh together in the sheer delight of such beauty.

Help me salt my days with the recognition of these simple gifts:
A sip of cool water or warm coffee,
Someone opening the door for me,
A kind word,
A silly joke,
A true hug.

You are still here among us.
You have not given up.
Nor will I.

Amen.

[photo by Riccardo Francesconi per cc 2.0]

leaning in

interfaith momentThe intent of my soul toward my god.
The intent of your soul toward yours,
Finds us leaning deeply upon each other.
It makes me smile.

Neither of us have a handle on the almighty,
Neither can hold the Whole within our minds or hearts,
But when the spirits’s fruits grow up between us,
I count it as a confirmation.

[photo by United States Mission Geneva per cc 2.0]

dawning

seeing more

 

The chief thing that separates us from God is the thought that we are separated from Him. – Thomas Keating

 

As I wake to this new day,
As I yawn and rub my eyes and peer into the breaking dawn,
I begin to see the edges of things, coming clear.
And, today, there is a subtle shift in vision.
I begin to see the heart of things, as well.

Within the frame of morning,
I begin to see a shimmer of your presence.
I begin to imagine your smile upon the dawn,
Your fingers brushing the edges of the grass,
Your hope rising upon the horizon.

And it is here that I begin to know
That imagination is not mere fantasy
But the early sign of the gift of entrainment
The fruit of practice
The pattern behind the patterning.

Rote practice is not the key,
But a continual turning of the heart toward you,
The intention – not to do the work, but to be open to it –
Has begun its work in me.
And that is what dawns on me this morning.

I am so grateful.

[photo used with permission from Mike Bizeau’s beautiful blog – nature has no boss]

Merry Christmas

Image of Christmas

When you open sleepy eyes this morning
And remember that it is Christmas,
May your heart lift with joy.
May the first gift of your morning
Be the deep contentment of being held in love.

May you see all the gifts that grace this day,
Knowing that the tinsel gifts of your childhood
Were just the shadow –
A pattern of the kind of gifting
That flows from one to another, to another,
One gift begetting the next,
Until all are giddy with the exchange.

May you see the world with Christmas eyes,
Where the true economy – the economy of love – takes root.
Where it really is more blessed to give than to receive,
Where we can rest our hearts, our lives,
In the sure confidence that love will triumph,
That, at the end of the day, empty wrapping paper on the floor
It not a sign that it is over
But the promise that it has just begun.

May you greet the Christ, newborn into your heart this day.
May that Christ, the very essence of God made manifest,
Shine forth in every leaf and blade,
In every smile and hug,
In every gift that brings the giver’s heart close to your own.

May you see the exchanges of love made manifest.
May you give and receive in joy this day.
Merry Christmas.

[photo by open-arms per cc 2.0]

Thank you

morning coffee

Thank you.
Thank you.
Thank you.

Thank you for the morning quiet.
Thank you for a fuzzy robe, pulled round my frame.
Thank you for a cup of coffee, warm inside me.

Thank you for a long deep breath.
Thank you for the words that rise in my heart when I am quiet.
Thank you for the words of others that stir my thoughts and tilt my soul.

Thank you for plants that grow, for life that sings.
Thank you for beauty, and for beauty’s call to my heart.
Thank you for your abundant grace, for your quiet peace.

Thank you, O Holy One,
For pulling the world into your embrace each morning,
For calling the future to a new awakening in you.

Quicken my soul.
Energize my work.
Let me be a conduit of grace into this day.

Thank you, Holy One.
Thank you.
Thank you.

[photo by Kristina Alexanderson per cc 2.0]

 

the hole in my soul

holeThere is a hole in my soul that needs filling.
Stuffing it with newspaper just won’t do.
Neither will ignoring it, or just walking around it.

The hole is a wound,
Not from the slash of a blade,
But from the steady friction of the world.

I need the salve of your hope.
I need the wisdom of the great physician.
I need … you.

Oh, my little one, you have me.
Always and forever.

I am before and beyond.
I am within and throughout.
I breathe inside your breath
And leave the dusting of my presence
Wherever you are.

The trick (though it is no trick)
Is to be there. Fully there.
Fully embodied; fully infused.

This reality is already yours.
Now, before you retire.
Now, before you even start your day.

I am yours and you are mine.
That is true regardless.
But when you open to that truth
That is the magical moment (though it is not magic);
That is when your heart quickens with the breath of hope.
That is when wisdom invades your words
And grace flows from your touch
When you become the conduit of my love.

Oh, Holy One,
I long for this to be true.
It seems I always stand on that precipice of longing
But I lack the courage to fall into that reality.
So, year after year, I come to the very edge of promise
And turn to go without fully embracing its truth.
I leave the blessing for the busyness of my days.
I postpone your call, to answer the phone.

Pick up the phone.
That’s me on the other end.
You can answer my call in that conversation.
Trust – it comes with action.
Doubt is just the mud on your shoes.
Keep walking – it will be worn away.

[photo by Daniel Meyer per cc 2.0]

 

tangle of anger

GRRRR!GRRR! I am so angry at myself, at the system, at the continuing unfairness of work to reward, at my own inability to control my emotions about this. I need a gift of grace. ‘Seek first the kingdom,’ you say. I must not have been seeking the kingdom very well, because “all these things” seem to be going to someone else.

I know, I have no room to gripe.  I know I have been deeply blessed. What right do I have to be mad? Still, I must admit that I am mad. I have poured myself out on an altar whose god does not care.

The greater irony – that false god did not make me do it. Once I gave him the minimum, he stopped even looking. So, the waste I have made of myself is all my fault. Now, I can’t seem to gather myself back together enough to find what matters.

This world’s prince doesn’t care about fair. In fact, unfair suits his purposes much better. Fairness will never be achieved through his means. And from God, the true God, I do not want fairness. I want mercy. I want grace.

So, why can’t I shake loose from this burden of anger? I reach inside myself an try to pull it from my heart, but it is wrapped too tightly. I fear I will pull my heart out, as well, if I tug hard enough to dislodge it.

It is not just clinging to me, it is consuming me; feeding on my heart, crowding out all else from my mind and my spirit. It is a cancer which must be removed, even at the cost of my heart. So, I do pull it out, and, along with it, the unconsumed fragments of my heart, bleeding in its claws. I throw it from me as far as I can manage and then I slump to the ground in a heap. I am hollow inside. All my energy, all my effort drains out onto the ground in a puddle of red.

Then, the Holy One is beside me. She gathers me up in her arms, wraps me in a cloth and carries me to the well. She washes me, wraps me again in a clean towel and sets me on the ground before her.

“This is not a battle lost, she says. This is a fruitless battle ended.”

“Listen to my voice. I have a better struggle for you to enter in. Not a battle, but a dedication of effort to something better than the tasks that others have selected for you.  Do not despair the efforts you have made, but do not trust them for the building of your life. Your life lies not in them, it lies in who I have called you to be.”

“And do not look for confirmation in comparison with others. Their path is different from your own. When you measure yourself, your success, by other’s standards, you are not measuring yourself at all. Such measures will never satisfy.”

With this, from another small towel, she unwraps a new heart. It is not like my old heart. Instead, it is a piece of her own heart that she gives to me.

“Listen. I have placed myself within you. Listen. You will begin to hear, to know, and then to follow.”

She turns to go. Then, almost as an afterthought she says, “Don’t worry about letting go of your anger. Let go, instead of your misguided heart. The anger clings so tightly to that, that when you remove it, the anger will be removed as well.” She smiles. “Listen for my heartbeat, deep within.” Then she is gone.

3 29 95

[image cropped from photo by Shawn per cc 2.0]

deep circle of grace

blessing

May your heart find peace this day.
May you breathe in the holy breath of hope.
May it strengthen your soul and fortify your step.

May you know, deeply know, that you are not alone.
Just for a moment, may you feel the embrace of deepest love,
Circling round your very being, holding you tight.

May you know with deep assurance
That you will never fall,
Except you fall into those arms.

[photo by Demetrios Varoumas per cc 2.0]

squirrel

 

squirrel in a cage
The best moments any of us have as human beings are those moments when for a little while it is possible to escape the squirrel cage of being me into the landscape of being us. – Frederick Buechner

 

I try for a moment every morning
To pry my attention away from the urgent
And focus on the eternal.

It is not easy.

Sometimes my distractions are discomfort:
A headache or a cold.
Sometimes it is the email, screaming in my inbox.

Or that damn list.

Sometimes it is just guilt:
The friend I should have called,
The closet where I’ve hidden what I should have cleaned.

They are all squirrels.

So, I try one or more of the methods I’ve been given –
I focus on my breath or close my eyes and smile
Or practice grateful reflection.

Each of those can help.

But what really makes the difference
Is when you sneak up beside me
And remind me

You are here.

That is when my soul can finally release its grasp upon the urgent
And fall into your sweet embrace.
That is the moment

I find myself, again.

[image filtered from photo by Chance Fry per cc 2.0]

magnificat

loaves and fishPraise to the Lord
whose specialty is
barren wombs,
the wilderness,
a lame man’s legs,
and a basket lunch.

I think I can find hope
in such a One.

[Reflections on Luke 1:46, ‘Mary’s song. Image cropped from photo by Steve Cadman per cc 2.0]