Retreat Day 2

Mar. 2: After a good night’s sleep, I began with a guided meditation on starting the day with happiness. Seven affirmations included this first one, to “plan but remain flexible.” My foot is still hurting a little, and my headache continues to come and go as it has for the past week. Other than that, I have enjoyed tea and breakfast and the quiet of a Saturday morning. A Sudafed helped my head, so I’m still convinced it’s a sinus/allergy problem.

Finished Henri Nouwen’s The Way of the Heart. He teaches that the way to pray without ceasing is to use a simple word or phrase, to use it continually, and to make it encompass all that is. For me at the moment the words are Health and Wholeness, Grace and Peace, prayed rhythmically with my breath. I can pray that for everything and everyone in the cosmos.

Krista Tippett, in her podcast On Being, interviewed Pico Iyer, a travel writer who makes his home in rural Kyoto, “commuting” 5 feet to his desk for 5 hours, then taking a walk, reading for an hour, taking another walk, and spending the evening with his wife. They live in the same 2-room apartment where they also raised two kids.

Every season Mr. Iyer goes to a Buddhist monastery where silence is a way of life. He travels for work, but he sits for insights about all he has seen. I watched his TED Talk on the Art of Stillness. He recommends that each of us devote a few minutes to stillness every day; a few days every season; or even, (as Leonard Cohen did for 5 years at Mt. Baldy Zen Center in California) a few years of your life. Now I’m going out for a walk to empty my head of all those words. They need time to sink in.

Mostly silence or Estelle Frankel this evening.

Retreat, Day 1

Mar. 1: Began with a pedicure. That eased my spirit, helped relieve my headache just because I quit getting ready and simply relaxed into retreat mode. Sky blue toenails.

Lunch, eaten mindfully and deliciously.

Did last minute emails that ought not to wait for my return. Set up an automatic notice that I’m on retreat until the 7th. Finally, I made an appointment for a massage on the 8th.

Now to the recliner with a book.

Wrote in my journal, took a short nap, then took a walk while eating an apple. It’s getting quieter in my head.

Started 2 books: The Wisdom of Not Knowing, by Estelle Frankel, and The Way of the Heart, by Henri Nouwen. Wrote a few sentences of reflection.

Frankel: Embracing the unknown/not knowing leads to curiosity and creativity.

Nouwen: Solitude, then silence, then prayer. Working on the silence part.

Epiphany

A favorite class in seminary was World Religions, taught by Dr. Ruben Habito at Perkins School of Theology at SMU in Dallas. He was born and raised in The Philippines and became a Jesuit priest. He was sent to Japan as a missionary and became so interested in Buddhism that he also became a Buddhist monk. I appreciated the opportunity to study with someone who clearly had experience in more than one religious faith, someone who could embrace multiple perspectives and see their contributions to religion.

One morning, Dr. Habito invited the class into a few minutes of silence. Then he opened his hand in front of him and asked us to tell him what we saw:

acornAcorn?

Oak Tree?

Forest?

Nature?

Life?

Several minutes passed. I kept staring at that acorn until sudden realization came to me:

“I see                   …                myself.”

I saw that everything is connected. We are all one with the planet, its elements and atoms, breath and interdependence, formation and destruction, contribution and influence. In that moment of epiphany I saw myself, an integral part of this amazing universe.

He silently handed me the acorn.

 

 

Faith Development

This week I have been focused on a workshop for religious educators on Nov. 3, in Houston.  The title is Faith Development as Spiritual Practice, and it applies not just to educators, but all of us.

I’ve prepared an agenda, collected supplies, and prepared a list of resources. I have written out my part and tomorrow will practice it all out loud to double check timing and ease of speaking.

My summary is this: Feed your soul every day, especially when you think you don’t have time. Make it a habit to let go of tension, worry, and anxiety so that you can rest in the present moment. You will move through the rest of the day feeling centered, grounded, and more at peace with whatever comes your way.

Remember . . . YOU ARE A BLESSING!

        Art by D. Williams, on Creative Commons

On Faith: 5 Questions

TheOnFaith5 provides an online platform for answers to five questions about faith. On their website you’ll find many different perspectives.  I invite you to reflect on these questions along with me because each of us would think of them differently. My next post will consist of one or more of my ever-evolving answers.

Rain Lily, Austin, TX

1) Is religion or spirituality important in your daily life? How?

2) How has your understanding of “God” evolved throughout your life?

3) What do you think of religions other than your own?

4) Can you share a time when your faith helped you understand a significant event in your life?

5) What is your faith in one word or phrase?

What is saving me now?

Have you ever left a faith community? A church, synagogue, mosque, or temple? Maybe you looked around for a while before you found another that was more to your liking or closer to where you lived. Maybe you gave it up for good. You’re certainly not alone. I was raised Episcopalian, became Unitarian Universalist, and studied Zen Buddhism for a time. In India I was immersed in Hinduism. This summer I visited a number of different services, just to see how other folks do religion.

At the end of Leaving Church, Barbara Brown Taylor reflects on what she has lost by not serving a church as priest and what she has kept. In multiple ways she answers the question, “What is saving you now?”

What is saving me now is a sense of completion. Twenty five years of ordained ministry, duly noted and recognized. Three years of study for the specific ministry of Spiritual Direction, duly graduated and recognized in 2018. A chance to preach at Northwoods Unitarian Universalist Church on the occasion of their 40th anniversary. I had been a member there for their first 15 years, and was ordained there in 1993.

In Kansas City, I joined other 25-year Unitarian Universalist ministers to be recognized by colleagues from across North America and a few distant countries. We enjoyed memories of how much has taken place under our watch. We have loved the people we served, the voices we raised, and the path we chose.

After that month of travel, I was ready to reclaim body, mind, and spirit. What is saving me now is rest, prayer, contemplation, and exploration. I took most of July as a mini-sabbatical from multiple responsibilities and commitments. Blocks of solitude, doing simple art, visiting museums and libraries, singing with Tapestry Singers, reading for pleasure, and writing, are some of the ways I have restored my spirit. Now in August I’m back into planning and preparation for new adventures. Come along with me!

Spiritual Companion

For the past three years I was enrolled in a course of study called Formation in Direction. Nine of us students graduated in June 2018 as Spiritual Directors. That’s an old term for something that has existed for centuries: meeting with folks in a comfortable environment in which they can explore their spiritual lives and matters of the heart. I feel comfortable with the term Spiritual Companion, because even though I am helping others think about spirituality, I am learning from them as well.

As children we acquire a view of the universe, the nature of God/Goddess/Yhwh/El Shaddai/Spirit/Allah/Ra/Jesus/Big Bang/Mystery/The Maker/The Kind . . . and on through dozens of names that try to capture ultimate meaning in a way that makes sense to us. As we grow older, many of us learn that there are as many ways to understand questions like these: Where did we come from? What is our purpose? Why do bad things happen? What happens when we die? Should we pray, and how? To whom?

We wonder whether our lives reflect our values. We are often way too busy for reflection, anyway!

With the help of my own Spiritual Director (for 3 years so far), I have developed new spiritual practices; I have heard and read poetry that taps wordless parts of me; and I have seen how ordinary routines, done mindfully, can also be spiritual. Our monthly meetings have gradually shaped my daily life to be more centered, mindful, and spirit-filled. It has been a good investment.

Now I’m ready to offer that guidance to others.  Through this blog and through sessions with individuals or small groups, let’s learn together about spirituality that goes far beyond religious beliefs.

Hello world!

Spiritual growth: For me it comes in fits and starts. Meditation? Monkey mind leaps into action and rarely stops for more than seconds at a time. But I show up and sit comfortably. I light a candle and set a timer with a pleasant sound for 22 minutes. Then I slow my breathing and count breaths to 10 and start over and over.

I started with 5 minutes. As soon as my monkey mind started to slow down a little, the timer went off. It occurred to me that 5 minutes was too little time for me to quiet my mind as well as my body. Every few days I would add a minute and try again. Twenty two minutes feels like the right number for me.

Years ago when I was introduced to Zen meditation, a Buddhist tradition, we would sit quietly for 20 minutes, then get up to walk in silence for 5 before repeating the cycle twice more. Then our teacher Ruben Habito, a Jesuit priest and a Buddhist master, would speak to us of some aspect of Buddhism. We would close with a tea ceremony.

Occasionally I attended a weekend sesshin–2 1/2 days of silent meditation, walking, chores, and meals. At the end of the weekend my senses were finely tuned to the colors, textures, and sounds of life.

By spending these 22 minutes a day, most days, I tune into an ancient practice that has multiple formats all over the world. It is a prayer without words, simply listening to the wisdom of the ages.