A Special Saturday Morning

(Since some of this is personal, I have changed the names and location.)

A friend who used to have a restaurant recommended that I go and check out another place.

So, when I woke up, I decided that this was the day I was going to visit.

I entered the town, and turned the corner where this cafe was located, and was presented with a large, blue house with the sign outside welcoming people in for a cup of Joe and perhaps breakfast. 

I entered the front door and the "parlor" was full of welcoming couches, chairs, and festooned with art of all kinds.  Pottery, painting, sculptures, masks, homemade works out of wood, stone, cloth, photos.  A sign pointed to the kitchen area and I followed.

The art never left.  With each turn I was presented again with these works on the shelves, wall, everywhere.  In the dining room were reclaimed wood tables, a bar with inlaid glass and pebbles and dark wood inlays.  All of it recycled wood.

Their menu is anything from Organic to mainstream.  A little bit of everything for everyone.  I ordered the coffee (which smelled heavenly) and the Sunrise plate.  This was turkey with a touch of bacon with melted provolone and spinach sandwiched between two pita breads with an orange slice.  It was delicious.

I was surrounded by art, and surrounded by fans (the kind that blow air).  It was like being in a constant gentle breeze while I enjoyed my breakfast (which was so good I ordered the same thing again and ate it).

The owner Gracy grew up there and moved away, but came back and wanted to bring the feel of some of the organic, eco-friendly restaurants back her town.  She talked out how much she had put into advertising and drawing customers.  They have live music on the weekends, and everything they use they recycle.

I talked with the cook, her partner Marti.  You could tell he loved to cook.  He loved to talk.  He told story after story about creating the benches and stage outside with recycled wood.  How he built the bar, the tables, the trim on the walls.  Very proud of his work.  He spoke of his family and his wife that he lost to cancer.

He also talked about his miraculous encounters with God.  His daughter was bipolar and had to be hospitalized repeatedly for her own safely.  Yet, his stories about her were inspiring.  At what seemed last the last moment, the last nickle that he couldn't afford to pay, the last bill that came due, something happened.

In one story, the hospital lost the bill and never charged him and never brought it up.  That was after his time with God asking how he could afford yet another bill for his daughter.

Another story was his encounters with 3.  In the course of a day he woke up at 3:33am but thought nothing of it.  He then was at his daughter's house picking up clothes for her as she was to be released and he touched a rose that she was drying out upside down, and 3 petals fell.  He got to the hospital and looked down and saw 3 quarters (which he has kept to this day), and this was the day that again, when he went to Billing asking what this would cost, the hospital said they would cover all the costs and he shouldn't worry. 

A new couple came in then, and the first thing the woman did was go up to Marti and gave him a huge hug, saying, "I told you I'd be back" and presented her boyfriend to him (as if Marti were her father and she were presenting him to Marti for approval.)  Then he had to get back to the kitchen.

A bicycling couple, in their skin tight wind suits, and obligatory white water bottles, were coming in just as I was leaving.  They stopped and talked about the place and how they loved the recycling and conservation that Gracy and Marti did.  They just love the place.

I left, charged up, inspired, and fed, and not just with food.

It was a great start to a day.

Long Road to the Mountains.

Long Road to the Mountains
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Mountain tops are nice.  The air is different.  The view is spectacular.  The setting often beautiful.  It lends itself to a wider perspective, a longer vision.  They are necessary.  They are a spiritual reset that I need so often.  The only drawback to mountain top experiences is that at some point, I have to go back into the valley.  Rarefied air is great, but I can't breathe it forever.

So what happens when the mountain-top experiences become fewer and farther in between?  In this dynamic two years since I "woke" up, I have had moment after moment of these timeless periods of feeling reconnected, seeing the longer view, experiencing the wider perspective, the eternal peace.  They got so frequent that hardly a day went by that I did not have such a moment.  It was glorious.

Now, I am looking at why I have fewer such experiences.  To a mystic like myself, it is almost a painful sense of loss.  That immediate, intimate experience of God is what impassions and emboldens me.  The mountain-tops are where I wish to live.  So the quest for an answer began.

There were valley experiences.  More than usual.  

Not to go into detail, but when a crisis or a problem comes up that seems to restrict, to limit the physical possibilities of life, I felt pulled off the mountain.

It took almost fourteen years to come to a point where, for the most part, I could balance all the axis of my life.  I was conscious and actively participating in life.  Challenges would come up, and for a while there were no mountaintops.  Yet, this was a very short and temporary thing.  The problems were within the realm of my experience.  The tools I had to deal with them were at hand.  It was familiar territory.  Before I knew it, I was back experiencing those timeless moments of connectedness.  In fact, more so after the crises.

A brush with mortality.

These recent crises were new.  They involved another set of balances to be added to my life.  Too much one way, and now instead of getting to a place where I was physically uncomfortable and temporarily limited, these felt more serious, more life and death.  To put it simply, I re-experienced my own mortality.  I knew again what it was to look at the possibility of a limited time on earth.

Forgetting to look outward

With these new problems came the immediate reaction; I went back into survival mode.  Survival-mode is a funny thing.  In order to protect myself from what I perceived as outside problems, I curled back into myself.  All this really does is prevent me from looking toward those things that can make me feel less threatened; connections with other people, friendships, the support of a community.  The tighter I curled up, the less open I was to the very things that restored me before.

I even remember a time very similar, when the act of service to another (giving a stranger a 130-mile ride), broke me out of that time in the valley.  Yet, why did I not do the same thing this time.  Because I was curled up and watching my back instead of watching how I might serve others.

So, now that I knew the road-map I had, I could change direction.  I could choose a different outlook, and if I didn't end up in the mountains again, at least I would recognize them when they came again.

Turnabout - Heading in a new direction is sometimes painful


So what turned me about this time.  It was a moment of sheer physical pain.  Again, I won't go into details, but that moment of pain seemed to shock my system awake.  Things started moving again.  This wash of emotions cam over me.  Like a torrent, it blasted all this stagnant, survival-mode crash position perceptions away.  It was an emotional catharsis.  At one point, it was so powerful that once again I turned outward and fervently welcomed God, something larger than myself, to help me out.  Though I was alone, I felt once again connected.  As the tears stopped and the breathing resumed, I was again me.  The me who experiences mountains everyday.  

Since then, I have seen again the playful presence behind the laughing eyes of a dog.  The sheer moments of loving-kindness between friends, the giggling of children, the peace of the birds in flight.


I realize these things never left.  I just got caught in the self-sustaining cycle of survival and forgot and denied my life, or the living of it.

Yet, now I know there will always be the mountains, but that there will always be the valleys as well.  And I hope that this long journey back will remind me again to hope, to persevere in the valleys.

Willingness versus Will-fullness.
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"I know now how to do it.  I know where I made my mistakes.  This time it will be better!"

"God helps those who help themselves!"

"If all else fails, then I will give the God thing an try."

"I am a mighty warrior for God!  Look at all the things I have done!"

This is really a problem area for me.  It is.   I have two choices that seem, on the surface, to be contradictory.

I can be Willing.

You have all heard it.  Just wait upon the Lord.  Seek for those signs.  Wait for God.  Be available.  Be willing.

Yet, how?   I mean, do I just show up at church events, Sunday school,  and sit on the pews waiting for God to use me?  How about walking out into the center of town, and sit on a bench in the park and just wait for something to happen.  I know, let me go and sit in a chapel in a hospital and wait for God to instruct me on what to do.  I will need to reorganize my schedule.  Nothing should get in the way of my availability for God right!  I mean, I can put off that vacation and volunteer right?   I can't start anything because I don't know if it is God inspired or God's will.   I can't make a mistake.  What if it is just my will?

Lots of what ifs.  Lots of passivity.  Lots of fears of making the wrong move, so I wait until God moves first.

Yes, I know this is unrealistic.  It is taking willingness to a whole new level.

The assumption that Willingness begins from is that we need to be viilant, available, aware, and willing to do God's will when we see it in our lives.  As you can see, it can degrade into a passivity with life in general.  It becomes an excuse to not do things.  To not try.

Let's look at will-fullness taken to the same level.

I can be will-full.

"Just do it"

"Go for gold"

"God or Bust!"

There is a part of me who sees something that should be done and wants to do it.  Very little planning or rational thought goes into this.  Sometimes I just jump.   Later, when I am way over my head I ask the questions like "Wasn't this what God wished for me to do?  I mean I was helping people after all.   Sounds like it was God's will."

The underlying assumption in being willfull is that we are an active partner with God and therefore we don't have to wait for inspiration, but just begin to do something.  I have nothing against this assumption.  Sounds pretty good.  But just like "Willingness" described above, it can lead to a life based on action and not contemplation.  Asking how God fits in after plunging in.  Making sure that God is still in our corner, when the boxing gloves come off.

Now both being Willing and Willfull have their place.  In fact, this whole Christian journey wouldn't get very far without them.

Willingness allows us to see the needs in the world; and gives us the possibility that it may be us who may address these needs.   Otherwise, we are armchair Christians, mouthing the words about that needs to be done but doing nothing.

Will-fullness provides the power, the motivation, the drive to act on those perceived needs.   God did not create us with no will at all.  We have the power to make decisions, to take action.  We can do.

Yet, both of these are necessary to counterbalance the other.

Our willingness may be there to change our minds about the course we have started (we have willed).  Perhaps it is a path which is better for us and the world than the one we acted on.  We have to be open to this possibility.  We need to be willing to reevaluate.

We also need to be will-full to check the tendency to remain static, or even paralyzed in making a decision about what to do.  We need the motivation to act on new circumstances.  To change our path when necessary.

Our willingness introduces us to where we can be useful, and our will acts on it.  Both necessary.  Both harmful when taken to an extreme.

What a mystical experience feels like.

What a mystical experience feels like.

Let me first say that all people have mystical experiences.  No really.  They do.

A mystical experience is one in which you experience feelings, thoughts, sights, sounds that cannot be explained; or rather, are outside your realm of experience. 

Your first crush on someone was a mystical experience.  There were feelings that overwhelmed your heart.  Sensations that coursed through your body.  There was an overwhelming sense that you were plugged into something so much more powerful than you.  This is a mystical experience. 

For mothers and fathers, oftentimes the birth of their child is a wholly and singly powerful experience.  In a moment, their outlook, their feelings, their motivations, their thoughts, their entire contract with reality changes.  Some parents literally have a moment out of time.  Everything slows down; and what occurs is a suspended moment of bliss.   Indescribable joy.  Unlimited Love.  This is truly a mystical experience.

Though these experiences are not limited to those above.  You can have a mystical moment looking at a tree, reading a book, looking at a photo, listening to a song.  Remember the definition.  It is simply an experience that transports us to a place unknown and unexplainable.

So what is one of my mystical experiences?

I used to work at a summer camp.  It is a Lutheran camp that caught and held my heart and my service for my childhood, young-adult and college years.  Once I graduated, life took over and I did not go back, even for a retreat for 16 years.   Then I just decided one summer to volunteer for a week.  Here is where the mystical experience comes in.

This is the body of an email I wrote to a dear friend of mine after that experience. 
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"What can I even say about the 5 days I got to spend in among such wonderful and loving people in such a blessed place?

What I did was listen to people's stories...their moments with God; their contact with the seen and unseen; their love for each other; their service. With each interaction and each story, these people became the saints, the fellowship of all believers, the people of God. Truly, they were so filled with love and the richness of their experiences, that it was impossible not to fall in love with each and every one. The people there are the embodiment of what can happen when Love and Service become living things; part of the fabric and makeup of each one!

I slipped into that loving community, not as a stranger, nor outsider, but as a welcome friend. To the staff I was just another staff. To the campers, just another camper. To the pastors and sponsors, just another pastor.

I felt like no other time the physical presence of God. My being was attuned to another world. I could feel the emotions, the joys, the trials, the pains of other people there. I had empathy like never before. It was unbelievable.

And these people, these staff were of such quality, such richness that I was moved many a time to tears.

It was simply and life-changingly amazing!"

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I did forget to point out another characteristic of a mystical experience.   
After the experience, you feel more connected to something greater than yourself. 

If the mystical experience happens with people, you feel a greater sense of community.  The ties that were there are stronger, and new ties are forged.  If it is in solitude, the strands that tie nature, the world, your soul, your mind, your heart are strengthened.

With these characteristics in mind; remember the mystical experiences that you have had.

God is Patient and Kind....

 

Paraphrase/Modification of 1st Corinthians 13:4




" 4 God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. 5 God does not dishonor others, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. 6 God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

What concept of God do we have?  What do we think about when we think of God?

I know that for myself, my concept of God came from the Old Testament stories.  God was a burning bush, a frightful and awe-inpiring Father of Heaven, The Great IAM, the Alpha and Omega.  Now I also realize that my picture of God was also of an old man with a long white beard who reigned on a golden throne surrounded by angels.

In this country, I would bet that that is fairly close to many people's vision or concept of God.  Yet, that model (The Great Father/Creator) has with it it's own limitations.

If our concept of God is based on a father figure, then the same limitations that are in our own family relationships are defacto in our relationship with God.  Even a perfect father figure we can only imagine to the point that we have felt a father who has given unconditional love, unconditional support.  All fathers, or parents in general, cannot live up to that ideal.  So when we have felt conditional love from a parent, it shapes that relationship with God (using that Father/Creator model).  Every dashed hope, conditional behavior, restriction or discipline we felt growing up is always in the back of our minds then when we relate to God.

For those people who did not have good parents, or parents at all, the problem becomes even more insideous.  God then becomes a punishing or withholding God because that is our experience with our earthly parents. 

At some point, this model of Father/Creator, must change or we will be unconsciously placing restrictions on God's love for us.

In the paraphrase and modification of 1st Corinthians above, I would argue that the vision of God, the model that we need to move into is one where God is Love.  Any passage from the Bible that mentions Love, we should be able to substitute "God".   By doing so, we are opening up God, or our vision of God, in order that we may see the unconditional character of God's affection and love for us.

Let me restate the passage again:

" 4 God is patient, God is kind. God does not envy, God does not boast, God is not proud. 5 God does not dishonor others, God is not self-seeking, God is not easily angered, God keeps no record of wrongs. 6 God does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. 7 God always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

This God is now more than the great Father/Master/King.  Though all those things are still true.  The focus has shifted to the character of God and away from the Image of God.

God's character is now highlighted by the following traits:

Patience, Kindness, envy-less, boast-less, humble, honoring all others, seeking the best for others, not getting angry, not keeping tally of the wrongs nor sins.  God delights now with truth.  God protects.  God trusts.  God hopes, and God endures always.

Does this not also sound like the God from the Bible?  It is.   The focus has changed but God has not.  Our concept of God has changed but God has not.

What does this new conceptualization, new model of God affect us now?  One Answer!  "Unconditional Love".  That is what God is.  God loves period.  God doesn't love in spite of.  God doesn't love because we love him.  God Loves.  It is a fact.  There is no because.  There is no set of conditions.  When God said "I am that I am" God could have been saying "I love that I love" and it would mean the same!

God is love.
(John 3:16; Romans 5:8; 1 John 4:8)

-more later.

Self-Inspiration

Yes.  I know that all inspiration can be said to come from within and not from without.  However, when I talk about self-inspiring thoughts, I am refferring to those things within yourself that you tap into, in order to reach an inspired state.

Several blogs I have done have had to do with being inspired by people, places, nature, etc.  A wonderful sunset, or the ducks playing in the water, a baby laughing and others have the ability to inspire.  True.  Oft times I do not have immediate access to these things.  Sometimes in the lazy boy or laying down in bed I still want to be inspired.   This is when I participate in self-inspiration.

It starts with the desire to be inspired.  Sometimes I don't have that desire.  Let's face it.  And that's OK.  But when I do want new ideas, new vistas, new revelations, new motivations then that is a different story.  Then it begins with a change of thought.

The easiest way to explain changing my thoughts is that I build a thought-vision.  A daydream. 
I create a movie script or short story in my mind.  I place myself in a vision in which I am inspiring others or they are inspiring me.  This can also include visions where I love and am loved by others. 

There are a couple of rules to building this daydream though.  No Negative Thoughts!  No Bad Outcomes!  No Self-Criticism.   Which means, this is a true daydream.  I do not need to justify its contents, or explain it to yourself in any way.  Any never do I say, "Even though this will never happen....." or "This is impossible but....."
The purpose of the daydream is to re-inspire me.  It is to infuse my life with the feeling of being spirit-filled.

For example:

I come back and back to a vision of myself volunteering at a woman's shelter.  I am sitting taking notes, taking and intake, and I hear a joke being told by one of the children.  Suddenly this gurgling laughter wells up inside of me, overflowing in loud guffaws.  I cannot help myself from laughing.  At first there is a silence with the rest of the people there; but from second to second I see the corners of the children's mouths turn up.  A few begin to laugh quietly; and upon seeing that I literally cannot stop myself from laughing, they begin to relax into true laughter.  The mothers and some of the staff start laughing too.  A wave of good-natured humor spreads throughout the room.   I see the sparkles in the children's eyes and the deep relaxed sighs of the women.

It sounds too simple to be somethings that inspires me; but while I was writing the above, I felt so full of inspiration that tears started flowing.  No kidding.  That daydream of bringing joy to them never fails to inspire me that that is my life's purpose.  Helping others.

Another daydream is of me in front of High School and College students, giving a motivational speech.  In it I am talking about the worthiness and value of each and every life.  We talk about the skills and talents each has, and how they are affected and changed when they get to share these with others.  The students give their own stories and I watch as one story from one student inspires another.  The feeling of closeness and understanding among them build and when they relate the very emotional and pain filled moments of their lives, the others reach out and hug and hold, touch and affirm them.   I feel the compassion and empathy from them all.  They quickly go from being strangers to something more. 

Again, it sounds quite simple; and in both cases somewhat ego-centric on my part; but, it has impact.  It inspires me.  The dreams of affecting and being affected in the process of teaching, preaching, praying, laughing, playing and working with people has always inspired. 

The best part about participating in these daydreams is that I can do it at any time.  When I need a motivational boost to when I feel depressed.  The funny thing is though; by going through these daydreams, when I am around nature, the sky, the earth, people, communities, families, friends I find it easier to be inspired by them.  It is as if the inner inspiration primes the pump to experience it outside myself.

Plus, I just like to daydream.

Love at a Distance

Love At a Distance

I've written about the effect that love has on people.  Quite a bit in fact.  However, there are times that you never need to come into contact with someone to affect their lives, and they yours.  Let's call this "Love at a Distance."
 
We affect everything by our thoughts.  Whether we know it or not.  It is not so much of a stretch to think that we can also affect people though our thoughts of love about them and to them, without even talking.

Norman Vincent Peale had the right idea when he spoke of the many instances where changes were made in another person's actions by thinking positive thoughts toward that person.  Even though no talking took place, a change happened.

In one of his illustrations, he talked about encountering another driver, while out on the highway.  Norman was going somewhere unfamiliar, with trust map in hand and entered the freeway.  This other driver cut him off, slowed down when Norman needed to speed up, switched lanes when he wanted to exit.  Norman was not blameless.  The more aggressive the other drive got, the more he did too.  Then he was cut off, he started cursing the other guy under his breath.  When he wanted to enter a lane and was blocked he rammed down on his horn.  It just escalated from there.  Finally, Norman realized that he was getting no where with this one-upsmanship on the road.  He slowed down and started talking, in his car, to the other driver.  Calmly he told the other driver to take the lead.  That he was sorry for all the bad things he thought about him on the freeway.  That he should have a good day, and be safe on the road.  In fact, Norman went so far as to wish him in his heart a great and joyful day.

Well, they both happened to turn off on the same road, and Norman stopped to look at his map.  The man in the other car pulled over too, and asked him if he could give him any directions or help him in any way.  The change in the behavior of that man  Norman attributed to the change in his attitude toward him.

Now we are talking about Love at a Distance and not a good attitude at a distance, but it works much the same way.  Our thoughts of unconditional positive regard (the psychological definition of love) radiates out from us in ways that are not limited to talk, touch, feel.  In fact, I would go so far as to say there are no limits to how this attitude expands and touches all around us.

Have you ever started thinking about someone you wished would contact you, and then you get a card in the mail from them.  Or how about when you think that you really need to apologize to a good friend, and you battle with yourself over calling, but then they call you. 

But let's talk about love now.  What if you have burned bridges with someone.  They won't accept your calls.  They don't send you mail.  What then?  How can you ask for forgiveness and rebuild that bridge when communication just isn't there?

If we believe that love, unconditional positive regard, can be shared with another, even if that other person is out of sight, out of touch, even out of the country, then there are active things we can do to Love at a Distance.

Change our inner conversations about that person

Our present attitudes are habits, built from the feedback of parents, friends, society and self, that form our self-image and our world-image.  These attitudes are maintained by the inner conversations we constantly have with ourselves, both consciously and subconsciously.  Our attitudes about others are also build from these inner conversations.  So change the conversation.  Instead of thinking how the other person won't contact you because they are stubborn, a jerk, etc, replace it with an inner conversation with that person that focuses on the wonderful characteristics they have, the ones that may have made them friends in the first place.  

Actually have the conversation.  Talk to them like you would if they were in the same room with you.
Don't let blame and guilt, finger-pointing come into your conversation with their virtual selves.  Only focus on what you would like to see accomplished if you saw each other.  How your friendship means so much, and all the shared great memories.  Apologize to them for any thing you have done wrong.  Tell them that their greatest happiness is your greatest goal.  





Continue the conversation as the days go on.  Visualize that all wrongs are forgiven, and you are back in the friendship. 







If it is a relative stranger, the same applies.  Have the virtual conversation.  Talk to them about the same things.  Wish them happiness.  Wish them peace.  Surround them with your visions of them being happy.  Of them getting along with you.  Put yourself into the picture in your mind.


Whatever the greatest thing you wish for yourself, wish more for them.

Again, without ever needing to speak or see the other person, visualize them receiving all the things that you wish for yourself.  Success, friends, peace of mind, humor, laughter, love.  Include them in your daydreams of you receiving these things.  Imagine all the ways that, if you saw them again, you could participate in providing these things to them.


Pray


Whether in prayer or meditation or simple quiet time, include these people in your thoughts.  Visualize them surrounded by unconditional love  See them in your mind's eye as receiving that unconditional love; of having that seep into every cell; of the perfect situations, people, plans that would assure them of that love.  Pray for the ability for them to see all the times, the opportunities to experience that grace.

When the time comes to speak to them, don't miss it!
Very often, a time will come when you will have a chance to speak with them.  Be ready.  By this time, your inner conversations, desires and prayers have prepared not only them but you for a conversation full of positive regard, healing and love.  Even if it is only a few words, let them come from your heart.  You never know, but that it may spawn more such opportunities.  It may be the start of reconciliation.


 

Saturday Morning Routine

Saturday mornings I have gotten into a habit, a pattern of behavior.  While I live in the country, I get in my car and drive to a nearby town; go to my favorite restaurant, and eat breakfast, leisurely.

Before the waitress even arrives, I am slowing down my breathing; taking longer and deeper breaths.  I look at the menu, even though I end up ordering the same thing every time.  Sometimes a book keeps me company.  Something that is inspirational, emotional, moving.  Sometimes, I re-read posts from Facebook; from those people who never fail to make me smile as I read about them.

Some of the waitresses I know.  A pleasant chat about what's going on in their lives; a shared joke, a story, etc.  In between I stare outside, seeing the few people walking down the streets and wondering what their day will be like.

The ice tea arrives, and I get the first taste of the slightly sweetened, and slightly lemon icy taste of it.  Something else settles down in my soul.  A sense of comfort and peace starts welling up.

I can hardly await the food.  I know it will be fantastic, and not just because I am hungry and have waited to have a late breakfast.

When it arrives, I put the book aside, the people-watching ceases momentarily.  Food needs to be prepared.  The kitchen does this well, but I put my own finishing touches to it.  The fruit usually comes first.  It's sweet and textured taste, crisp for some and soft and melting for others, fills my palate.  I eat about half, knowing the hot food is cooling.

The main course is prepared; a salsa placed on my migos, a separation made between the hot and cold fruit, so no tastes mix on the plate.  Then the first bite of the hot food.  Ah.... The textures of the tortillas, eggs, spices, cheese.  Each has a place on the tongue.  Each is a note in the symphony of taste.

After some time, I switch back to the fruit.  It cleanses the palate.  It resets the taste buds.  A bit of ice tea.  A pause.  Then back to the migos.   It's a pattern.  A play.

All the while, my people watching or book reading or chatting continues.  While the tastes and textures of the food excite my mouth, the tapestry of  life around me excites my soul.

The woman walking along the sidewalk happens upon a good friend, also out for the morning; and the small joyful reunion ensues.

The couple that just came in the restaurant with their child brings the thought that I will hear laughter from both child and parents at some point.  Rarely am I dissapointed.

The older couple at one of the other tables, not saying much of anything, yet constantly in some kind of contact with one another.  Their hands resting on top of the each others.  Their legs or feet touching slightly under the table.  I imagine what kind of life they have been through to so weave their lives and love together.

There is often banter between the cook and waitress.  Good natured kidding.  It feels warm.  It feels like family.  Inside jokes, witty comebacks.  It reminds me of my brother and sister and how we bantered about.

Sometimes a phrase from a book or a post catches me off-guard.  I see something differently.  I feel something deep respond.  Amongst this life, this food, these people, a change has occurred within.

"it is those moments where some reminder brings awareness to all that is beautiful and miraculous."  a post by a friend on Facebook.

"Yes", I respond internally.  I have a name for the Saturday morning custom.   I am not seeking, but finding nonetheless the reminders in a morning meal, in a small town restaurant, in people around that all is beautiful and miraculous.  

A shiver goes down my spine.  I take a deep breath, as the peace of life settles in.

 

How you Approach Life.

I knew a valley person who saw the world as surrounded by obstacles.  Wherever she looked, she saw the sides of rock walls, the unclimbable sides of mountains.  She is a valley person. 

Her conversations were all about how this person or that person brought trouble to her life.  How she would be so much better off if Mr. X never talked to her again.  How Bank Y just didn't understand that she had the money in by the end of the day, but still got charged an overdraft.  Her children treated her like a slave, a maid.  Everything in the world was out to get her, to make her life hard.

She would get a cold and immediately think that if it turned into the flu, she just couldn't miss that time at work.  They would fire her.  Perhaps it was H1N1.  And so on.........

When moments of opportunity, or even rest and recreation came up, she did not notice them; or noticing, only saw them as things which should be avoided.  A nap couldn't be taken, because it would be interrupted.  A vacation could not begin because there was just too much to do.  A massage or a day at the spa was unaffordable.  A morning brunch with friends would take up too much time.

I knew another valley person.  No matter where she turned, she saw the beauty of mountains, the lushness of the grass on the hills, the splendor of snow on the peaks.

In her approach to others, she was graceful, patient, understanding.  Talking with her made you feel better, made you feel listened to and respected.  She could be found always talking.  Many times, she would talk at length with strangers as though they were the best of friends. 

Opportunities would arise for her and she would be off teaching night classes, delivering Meals on Wheels, playing with children in the park, feeding the geese.   When she got a cold, it would turn into bronchitis.  She had had breathing problems her whole life.  Yet, even amidst the short breaths, and at times, exhausting coughing, she kept seeing the beautiful mountains.

Did the first women never have moments of bliss?  I am sure she did.  Did she laugh uproariously.  Yes.  Had she ever experienced love and belonging.  Again, I have no doubt. 

Did the second women ever huddle in fear?  Or cry out in pain of loss?  Did she ever have to face humiliation or shame?  Again, assuredly. 

The approach to life in each was what made the difference.  Not the bad things that happened, nor the losses nor gains in each created their lives.  One life seemed based on an assumption that she lived in a hostile or cruel world.  The other that she lived in a benevolent one. 

Einstein said, "There are only two ways to live your life. One is as though nothing is a miracle. The other is as though everything is a miracle." 


While that is denying the whole range of approached to life, it does highlight the fact that we all have a base motivation, a base assumption about life.  For some, everything is a miracle.  For others, a burden.  For most of us, at some time, both.


Yet, if we make a decision to consciously choose the kind world, the loving stranger, the miraculous everyday, we are likely to experience more of it.  

 

Love the World...and by the way, this means Love Yourself

"A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another."
The golden rule.
Love and serve others.
Honor others as better than yourself.
It is in giving that you receive.


We've all heard them.  Theses sayings, verses, words of wisdom have been around as long as have we.  Give. love, share, serve.  All of them true.  All of them will make life better, more joyful, more loving.  Yet, we hear these truths and can take them to an extreme.


Love the world!


Good idea.  Sounds like that might work.  The world needs love.  Makes perfect sense.  Not only that, if we love the world then we can share that fact with others.  Being a martyr is in vogue right now.  Suffering for your faith will get you in with the Church Council.  You'll look good to your neighbors.   Nobody can say anything bad about someone who will give all they have and sell it and give it to the poor.  


I know of people who do give.  They give everything of themselves.  They pour out their talents, gifts, energy, time and often times sanity to those in need.  Giving till it hurts is not just a description for these people but a rallying cry, a motto, a way of life.  They are admired for it.  They are praised for it.  They are "good people."  I also know that many burn out at some time.  For some it takes decades, but there comes a time when they no longer give.  They have nothing left.  They check themselves out.  


I knew of a pastor who loved working with families, parents.  She had her degree in Divinity but also in Family and Child Counseling.  Not only was she a pastor full time, but a more than part-time counselor.  You name it, she dealt with it:  divorce, suicide, violence, abuse, etc.   She was good.  Everyone had the highest opinion of her.  I lost contact with her, but recently found out she had left the church completely.  I heard the story second-hand that she quit her job, never returned to the church, and shortly thereafter, moved to another city.  Those same people in the church which had praised her for her service and compassion now muttered behind her back (she wasn't even there to defend herself.) and cast dispersions against her.  How could she just quit and leave people who needed her?  I talked with a friend of hers and what happened was she burned out.  It was a choice between preserving her sanity, her health, her life and leaving that church and the ministry.


Love the world; just don't forget you are part of the world!

We are not praised for taking care of ourselves.  Stories are not passed around that we saved ourselves; but that bus full of nuns that we saved, yes, that makes the headlines.  People don't say, "what a good job you did in taking care of your own health, and finances, and home!"  It doesn't happen that way.  


We have been socialized and sometimes we have learned to always put others first.  Or we have learned the opposite, put ourselves first always.  Where is the balance?


Do you know that when they teach emergency response, one of the first questions to ask is "Am I and the other workers safe?"  Airline attendants are taught to put on the oxygen mask first, before helping the passengers.  Diving instructors are taught to protect themselves and their own safety if the student diver starts to panic.  "Can I assist this other without putting myself in jeopardy and thus making the rescue impossible?"


Take a moment.  Really think about the precautions we might take in our own lives before we love and serve others.  Because it is through such precautions that we CAN love and serve others.


Are we serving from a place of love, or from a place of duty, expectation, or implied understanding?


Often times, the service the we give is not based on any real love we have for others, but the fear that we will be rejected, or looked down upon for not helping.  This saps the will to serve, and uses far more energy than you would think.  Prolonged service of this type leads not only to burn-out, but to resentment, anger, and disillusionment.  Think from where is this motivation to serve coming.

Are we serving from a lack of resources, patience, time, understanding?

There are times we just don't have it to give.  Parents really understand this.  Teachers do to.  If we still feel like we have to give at this point, it often doesn't turn out well.  We become impatient, uncaring, short, mean, even passive-aggressive in the service.  That is because our own patience, understanding, and caring with ourselves isn't so great.  We haven't had time to love ourselves, serve ourselves, recharge our own tanks.

I am going to write more on this topic in later blogs.  For now, ask yourselves these questions before "giving all you have."  It will allow you to possibly give in a more healthy way, and for yourself to receive some of that giving as well.

Examine that Plank

Some of these blogs have been about judging others and why not to do it.  The limitations of judging another, of putting another in a box of your own preconceived notions, always limits us, rather than the person judged.  However, I do want to talk about something I have heard about time and again when justifying our (my) behavior toward other people with whom I think I am better.

"Hate the sin, love the sinner!"

Have you heard this before?  As Christians, I know that this phrase has done more to marginalize those whom we feel are engaged in activities, lifestyles, thoughts, or even feelings with which we do not agree.  It is another box.  Another label.  Another way to justify judging them.  But, it makes us feel better about ourselves.  For we are not rejecting the person.  No....We love the person, we are rejecting the sin.  Aren't we holy?

I am getting a little empassioned about this.  Usually my writing does not come across so strong or cynical.  I do apologize about this, however; it is a little something that bugs the heck out of me.

If you look at the way Jesus lived his life, the words he spoke, the way he loved, he never advocated "Love the Sinner Hate the Sin!"  In fact, Jesus, when witnessing the condemnation of the woman caught in adultery, he did not say, "Don't stone this woman.  Love her, but hate her sin!"  No.  He rather turned the tables on those judges and pointed out that not a one of them was without sin, none could justify their own position of judgment against her.

In light of this, perhaps we should re-write this oft used phrase.

"Love the sinner, and hate the sin in ourselves!"

or rather,

"Love everyone, and work on the sins in ourselves that get in the way of loving others even more!"

What would that scene have been like if we (I) did this more often?   Would we sit down with the woman, listen to her, learn who she is, what happened, and love to even more?  Would there have even been a gathering.  Perhaps a neighbor would have sat down with her and been a great friend, and the woman would have had the support, understanding and acceptance to see in her own life to deal with her own sins or roadblocks to loving others and herself.

This is really just a reminder to myself.  I need to Love everyone, and work on the sins in ourselves that get in the way of loving others even more!

The Sensation of the Presence of God - The Cycle

This life of the Christian Mystic is something else.

It is sometimes a cycle of moments of inspiration, and the next disappointment, and the next, disillusionment, and the next acceptance, and the next grace, and back to inspiration.  The ups and downs of feeling the presence of God in my life.

Other, much better, Christian Mystic writers throughout history have written of such things; but for my own sake, I will try to put into words what happens in my journey.

Times occur, when for no reason, after no triggering event, no sponsoring thought, no revelation on high, I am filled with the spirit (inspired).  This sometimes takes the form of a crystal clear thought, or a rekindled passion, or a sudden surge in the love I feel for people or things or causes or events.  It sometimes manifests itself as clearer vision (literally from one moment to the next my eyesight improves); a sudden understanding of a phrase, a book, a passage, a verse, a piece of music, or a theological or philosophical argument; an insight into art; a quantum leap in the expression and appreciation of beauty.  They have all occurred.

Inspiration sometimes hits like a hurricane; an electrical storm shooting down the spine, a sudden increase in the depth and speed of breathing, a soul arresting moment of clarity.  Other times, it is the very softest of gossamer touches; a feeling that seeps into every cell of my body over time; the simple sound of the wind.

These are really the times I live for.  Those moments, or stretches of time, where I feel connected to something larger and infinitely more powerful and loving than myself.  Like other Christian Mystics, I wish to experience that as much as I can; yet, there is no formula for being inspired.  It comes, seemingly, when it chooses to come. 

Now, there are things that I know block being inspired.  I have found tools that allow me to reduce the influence of these stumbling blocks to inspiration.  For such thoughts, I meditatate.  For such emotions, I visualize and remember.  For such actions, I choose and practice different actions.  This is a blog in itself. 

However, the fact is, that I am not continually filled with spirit in a sense that I can sense with my senses it's presence.  I know I am filled with spirit all the time.  But like the sensationalist, or sensualist that I am, I wish to experience it.

When I do not experience it, part of me is disappointed.  It is like having a wonderful conversation and finding yourself at the end of it; or like a wonderful hug that is suddenly over.  Sometimes it feels deeper than that.   A saying of goodbyes in an airport, when you will not know when you will see the other again.  These disappointments are based on fear.  I know.  I have no assurance of the physical experience of the presence of God, the way I wish to sense it, happening again.  I know this for the limited faith and understanding of that presence in my life; but, I feel it still.

Sometimes this disappointment turns to disillusionment.  Perhaps I didn't sense God at all?  My mind has made up the whole thing.  My desire to have sensational and unique experiences has made my mind and heart think and feel what is not real.  These are some of the thoughts that happen during these times.  I rationalize my way out of the sensations of being inspired.

Then comes acceptance.  This may sound familiar, like the stages of grief.  It is very close.  I come to a point where I realize that it should not matter at all whether I sense the presence of God, whether I "feel" inspired according to the criteria I have expected from past experiences.  It is enough to know that I am filled with spirit.  That every cell, every atom, every thing in creation, from the smallest to the largest, is filled with God's spirit.  There is no place that God is not.  Therefore, I am never ever separated from God.  Therefore, I am never ever devoid of God's spirit.  This is enough.  This is acceptance.

Then, when I accept, grace happens.

Grace moves me from acceptance to peace.  In the moment that I look at and realize my fears of not feeling inspired, I am led to understand that that's ok.  Not only that, but that now the burden of seeking after inspiration is no longer there.  The weight of grieving over loosing something that has never really been lost is removed from my heart. 

And in this place of peace, what happens?  Inspiration again.  The sensing of the presence of God.  Back on the cycle.  Back through the stages.

You might ask; why, if you know that inspiration happens when you do not seek for it, when you are at peace, when you are not getting in your own way, do you not just stay in a place of peace and acceptance?

I am working on it.  Plus; I recognize that the sensational part of me, at least some part, is too investing or too comfortable with the uncomfortable and turbulent cycle.  Sometimes I don't go through this cycle.  Sometimes, the spirit (or the sensations of the spirit) hit without the drama.  Other times, I choose the drama.

Oh well.  Lots yet to work on in my journey.

The Invitation by Oriah

I wanted to reprint this because it is how I approach people; how I wish to speak with them and interact with them.  I want to know people on these levels.

The Invitation by Oriah

It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon...
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.

And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,
“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.

By Oriah © Mountain Dreaming,
from the book The Invitation
published by HarperONE, San Francisco,
1999 All rights reserved

http://www.oriahmountaindreamer.com

Resistance to the Better Things

I resist!

Let's take sleep.

Some nights, I know that turning down the thermostat and piling the blankets usually makes for a better night sleep.  Being cold seems to help.  
Do I do this?  No!

Turning off my music, or my audiobooks, which I usually fall asleep to quite quickly anyhow, sometimes keep me up. 
Do I do this?  No!

How about turning off all the lights, putting my iphone away (out of the bedroom).
Do I do this?  No!

So, what happens is that some nights, I do not sleep well.   I have control over all of those things I mentioned above.  I could change any of them and probably get a better night sleep.   So, I am creating my insomnia.

How about meditation?

Meditation help to relax me.  It brings down my blood pressure.  I have no headaches when I meditate.  Things get easier.  The day goes smoother.

I resist a lot when I try to start a session.  Things go through my head like how much time will I loose to meditation.  Am I missing out on something else by doing this.  Why not listen to an audiobook?  No.No.No.
When I start though, I know that it was a good choice.

So, why in the world do I ignore, minimize or otherwise rationalize away things that would be beneficial.

Let me not even get into the food issue!   Talk about resistance to the better things for you!

The only thing that makes any sense is that I have the habit, like most people do, of instant gratification.

I get the instant gratification of listening to an interesting audiobook and loose sleep.
I get the instant gratification of thinking what I want to think and how instead of meditating.
I get the instant gratification of that pizza rather than the mizzou soup I should be having.

Resistance is also something that happens because of habits; bad ones that is!

I have the habit of ignoring my own inner voice when something comes up that might provide that gratification.
Sometimes, I know that the alternative to the better things, and better choices isn't that much more gratifying, but the habit remains of choosing the wrong thing.

My resistance also happens due to fear of change.  In broad terms, it is a combination of a fear of failing and a fear of succeeding.

What would happen if I really succeeded at mediation?  Let's say that I got so good, that I would rather meditate than watch TV, read, go out, watch movies, have fun with others?   What about the fear of becoming one of those people who go out into the desert to find themselves?  Whoah!

How about succeeding at sleeping?  Does that mean that I have to give up audiobook listening in bed.  How about all the thoughts that I go through before falling asleep?  Would my bedroom and my bed be only for sleeping.  The thing is comfortable!  I like reading there.  I like listening there.  Heck, I like playing guitar there.  But being a successful sleeper would be nice!!!

Now the biggie!

What if I became really successful at living life with no fears?

I don't know how to live without my fears.  Really, I don't know how to live without my resistance to living.  With no fears, there are no excuses.  With no fears, success becomes unavoidable.  With no fears, no resistance, I accomplish everything on which I think and act!   Scary thought.

Why do we need to share personal histories so soon?

Why do we need to share personal histories so soon?

Not the personal histories that give a short auto-biographical snapshot of who we are when we are introducing ourselves, but the more intimate histories.  The sicknesses, losses, redemptions, great awakenings, major moments in life.  

These personal histories are important.  However, when and how they are shared really tell a lot about us, with how we use them.

I like deep and significant conversations.  Long and meaningful talks are one of my favorite things to do with friends and more than friends.   But, like many, I am impatient to get through the perfunctory small talk and dive into the deep end. Sadly, I also know that I sometimes use my personal history to garner sympathy or attention.  This is really something I wish to focus on.

How many of us lead conversations with our personal sob stories?  It is like we extend our aches and pains, limitations and laments like some business card when getting to know someone.

We do it because on some level it works.  It has the payoff of being able to share our thoughts, but also allows us to share on a level which is socially acceptable, the common denominator of complaining.

It works up to a point.   Complaining is accepted.  Common complaints are a way to bridge that communication gap.  However, anything more, like tying our complaints to expressions of our needs sometimes gets tricky.  No one likes to hang around someone who feels needy.  Nor do people like to be shared with too much.  There is an unspoken assumption that since you shared with them on a deep level, that you expect them to share deeply with you.

People do not like to feel like they have an obligation to share with you something they would normally not share.

The other components of presenting such histories, is soliciting sympathy.  Sometimes we want people to sympathize with our complaints, losses, sob stories.   Again, this is an artificial empathy, a hollow expression of caring that it is a wonder that we don't catch on to the fact we are doing this so often.  Yet, the payoff is there.  For an instant we think that another person does truly care about us. 

No wonder it seems that there are so many walking wounded among us.  I do not think it is because most people are broken, but that we have become conditioned to lead with our complaints first, rather than our strengths.  Then those that do not feel that they have the emotional support or love in their lives can monopolize on garnering sympathy for their sob stories.

I have found lately, that when I am more ready to listen than talk, to present personal joys than personal sadness, to hold on to my personal history that it is more likely to create or to grow those relationships with friends or more than friends.

Using God as a tool to punish ourselves.

When we want to feel bad, we do.

I thought about stopping right there, but that would make for a very short blog. 

When we want to feel bad, though we may not know it, we do feel bad.

Not enough explanation?   How about:

When we want to feel bad, though we may not know we want to feel bad, and when we also rationalize, deny, and repress our way out of it, we do manage to make ourselves feel bad.

Yah.  That's more like it.

Some situations come up where we do something, or think something and feel bad about what we just did.  Perhaps you just don't want to go to our relative's house for dinner, but you would rather not tell yourself this.  Because, everyone knows that you need to get along with your relatives.  Something must be wrong with you if you just don't want to show up, right?

So what do we do?

Suddenly our stomachs don't feel that good, or we just got too tired, or we suddenly have a headache coming on.  Any excuse rather than the one that we just don't want to go.

It is funny that many times, when I made these rationalizations, I ended up feeling bad.  If I used the excuse, "gosh I'm too tired!" I would realize later that indeed, I was too tired.  If I felt a migraine coming on (which I have felt before but one has not developed ) then later a real migraine did come on.

It seemed that whatever rationalization became true, and I felt physically worse.  What was happening is that I was punishing myself for feeling that I didn't want to go or do something.

Most of the time, I was unaware that this self-deception and shame was causing these physical problems.  The initial lie I told my friends or relatives, and the rationalization so I wouldn't have to know that I lied to them caused me to lie to myself.

Now I want to change the phrase, "When we want to feel bad, we do." to:

When we want to feel that God feels we are bad, we make God in our own image, and thus we feel bad."


First, we don't do something that we feel we should have, but just didn't want to do it.  A service project came up with a church I used to belong to.  The day of the project, I just didn't want to go.  Of course I rationalized this so that I had some excuse.  Like always, I found I felt worse for the lie in combination for not doing this than I did if I just told them that I really did not want to come.

But since God was involved, and this was a project for others in the Name of God, then part of me felt like punishing myself.  And there is no better punishment to yourself that to make God into the image and tool of your own punishment. 

I felt that God felt deeply disappointed in me.  This caused me to feel shame.  Because I felt shame, I made sure that the next couple of projects for that church, I was there, regardless of how I felt, or how much I didn't want to do it.

This is a small and somewhat insignificant example, but it applies to much larger issues.   I made God into a God of shame.   I used God as a reason to punish myself.  In my opinion, this is just as bad as blasphemy.  It is misrepresenting God, and using God's image in a manner that it was never meant to be used.

Luckily I have never caused a person so much harm that it affected the rest of their lives.  At least I hope not.  However, some people feel that they have.  Some word, some fight, some struggle caused a permanent separation, or a deep abiding pain in another.    Some may then use that as an excuse for saying that God could not forgive such a thing.  Again, this is misrepresenting God and using God as our own tool for punishment.

If we feel that God cannot forgive us, then there is no impetus for us to forgive ourselves.  In fact, without this self-forgiveness, there is no motivation to ask another for forgiveness for our actions.   We are stuck.  We are stuck feeling shame and guilt, because we feel like we deserve such shame and guilt.  We deserve to feel bad, to have a broken relationship. 

I have used God as a tool of my own punishment.  Too many times to count.

God does not respond to the things I do in the same ways that I respond.  God does not want me to feel shame or guilt.  Nor does God want me to use God as an excuse to punish myself.

God does not say, "You have sinned.  Now feel bad for a long time about it!  Only by feeling bad for a long time will you prove to me that you realize that it is a sin, and that you did Bad!"

Plaah-eeeze!

God would rather we make a mistake, realize it for what it is, make amends, make changes, and move on.

Christian Mysticism - Breathing in and Out

Yes.  Another blog on Christian Mysticism. 

These ramblings are really an attempt to explain this whole experience to myself.  Sometimes I think I am writing to a large audience, but I am really engaging in a voyage of spiritual discovery.

Now on to Mysticism.

Of all the things I have read about Christian Mysticism, there seems to be a common thread that whatever the experience of one's ultimate reality (God, Jesus, etc) it involves a lot of introspection, meditation, contemplation.

For the last 15 months, that is what I have been doing.  I try to meditate.  I try to spend time with nature.  To see the beautiful among the ordinary.  To be aware of every sensation in my body, and to dismiss those sensations sometimes, to get to a greater state of relaxation.  Daydreams, visions, lucid dreaming, whatever you may call it, cause hundreds of sharp images to come to me when I need them. 

When I need to reorient my perceptions away from being self-centered, self-focused, images of sharing, caring, service, loving-kindness are generated, or perceived, or whatever in my mind's eye.  It does not take the focus off of myself, but includes others in a cycle of giving, receiving, mutual service, mutual caring that takes place.  Humbleness then happens because the picture has become greater than just myself.

Sometimes it is like watching videos of what has happened, or what may happen.  If I find my thoughts are dwelling more on depressive, self-defeating thoughts and my emotions are not too far behind, that a video is projected in my mind of singing in front of children, of holding the hand of those that have almost forgotten human touch.  Even videos of me dropping a plate and laughing uproariously.  Or having a mule sit on me (which actually happened).  It also sometimes expands into a vision of people I know who do not laugh, nor smile very much, hearing the best joke of their life, and roaring with unbridled guffaws.

There are surprises too.  I can be in the middle of meditating, and emotions just come up, so strong, for no reason at all.  Mostly, these are times of joy, love, understanding.  Sometimes, they literally bring tears to my eyes.

I have found out that these times of self-introspection, and meditation and times of peace are necessary.  I see why so many historical Christian Mystics wrote about them.  The mountain-top experiences.  They are engaging, sensational (filling the senses); a nice break from reality.

But it is like breathing.  If I only spend time with myself, it is like taking a large breath and holding it forever.  There is no where for that breath to go, nothing for it to do.

Breathing out; taking the experiences of the self, the recharged, re-centered, renewed me and using it to listen, to laugh, to serve, to love others is absolutely vital for my spiritual life.

Getting back to the Christian element; this sharing of the gifts and talents with others is when the real benefits of that self-introspection really happen.  It is, in the walk of the Christian Mystic, the expression of the presence of God. 

I have felt the presence; been sheltered by the presence; recharged through the presence' and now I need to express the presence.

Yet, unlike breathing out, I am not getting rid of anything, but adding another dimension to those things given me by God in the first place.  It goes from being a two-way practicing the presence to a community practicing the presence. 

The visions that recharge me are added to by the visions that recharge others.

The overwhelming feelings of love and understanding, are supplimented, are multiplied by the feelings of others.

Truly, "love your neighbor as yourself," becomes, "love your neighbor to the level, to the furthest expression of how you love yourself!"  What happens is that you find in that cycle; the more love you show, the more love you have to show.

"Take up your cross and follow me," becomes, "Be like Christ, your foundation, a perfect loving model, and show it forth!"  It is not a burden, but a gift to love others!

How can I feel the presence of God, the glorious experience of the way of Christ, if I do not love outside of myself, as I have been loved inside of myself.  

I tell myself to love everywhere that God loves.   This doesn't leave anywhere, anytime out.

The Christian Mystic's journey is never-ending.   There do need to be times of solitude; times of reflection; times of prayer.  Then there need to be times of living in community, breathing out, sharing. 

The breathing in and out of the presence is truly the breathing in and out of life.

Reality Hits!

Most of these posts are becoming more Christian oriented.  I guess that is because I am feeling closer to my past, have church in my present, and look forward to the future.   I am reliving that honeymoon phase in any belief, where everything is magical and anything is possible. 

That has been tested recently.  I would admit that reality and me do not really know each other.  My head has always been partially in the clouds.  I live my own reality.   Though, sometimes that reality is made a little more real by some things.  I have to stretch my definitions of faith, understanding, and love to accommodate real people going through real-world events.

I am going to be vague on purpose.  There are situations that relate to some readers of this blog, so I am going to change a lot of things, but the essence if still true.

A dear friend of mine has gone through some bitter betrayal by her separated spouse.  Bitter betrayal.  It is the kind of thing that in my normally optimistic and bold, brave and beautiful friend, caused  her to truly question her worth.  You could hear in her voice the unasked questions, "There must be something wrong or unworthy with me for someone to treat me that way."  It affected her and her daughter.  Both had their image of the same man shattered.   Now, I think that both will not trust men in general for some time to come.

How do you speak to such people of your radiant joy, your moments of the pure awareness of God.  What points of commonality can you share when the other has gone through such bitterness and self-doubt?

"God loves you!" just doesn't do it.   "It will get better" doesn't touch the hurt.  "Not all men are like that!" is just a platitude.  It does not address the hurt now, the betrayal now, the shame now, the grief now.

I was angry at this man.  I do not get angry easily.  It takes a lot.  Yet, I got furious at this guy.   My peace was shattered for a time by an overwhelming wish that something rotten happen to this guy.  I have never harbored such a thought in 20 years.   My sense of outrage popped that bubble of reality I had been blowing up.  The multi-color rainbows and joy filled life came to an abrupt halt.

Yet, at that moment I took a look at myself, and my thoughts.  I allowed this other person's behavior to affect my peace; just as my dear friend was allowing her husband's behavior to wreck her emotional life, hurt her self-image, and severely damage her trust.

That is when I realized that peace isn't the placid and unresisting fugue state of the mind where nothing affects you.  I got my peace back when I realized that I choose how people and events will affect me.  I choose.  Always.  

My dear friend did not need someone to share her outrage, but someone to listen, to love, to share with her the fabulous and inestimable qualities that she possesses.  I choose to be at peace so that she could have someone with whom to share her emotional journey.   There would be times when she needed someone objective to point out when her thinking and feeling were becoming too self-destructive.  She would need someone to be empathetic and understanding.  There would be a moment when she needed someone to reassure her of her worth, her value, her self, not with platitudes, but heart felt truths. 

There is a time to commiserate.  A time to share rage, grief, anger.

There is a time to understand.  To truly place yourself in the other person's shoes.

There is a time to be honest.   To point out when thoughts and feelings are doing more damage than they are healing.

There is a time to be real.  To live in the clouds, but to understand that sometimes it rains!

A Love Meditation

Yes, I meditate.  Several of these blogs have been about it.  The techniques, the times, the practice.  This one is one of the content.

I found a way to recharge not my mind, nor even my body, but my heart.  It is a meditation of appreciation for the love I have had in my life and the love I have now.

With a background of soothing music, I relax my body, and let my mind remember all the moments of love I have experienced through my life.  These are both moments of love I have received and love I have given.

As I remember each experience, I allow myself to feel the feelings.  The warmth, or excitement, or comfort, or understanding, or peace, or fun.  These layers of emotion I visualize as descending down, like layers of sunlight, soaking into me.   Sometimes, I visualize the really wonderful emotions as slow and sweet syrup, soaking into every part of me.  At other emotional memories, it is like a feather light touch which support my entire body; like being nestled in the arms and wings of an angel.

Each memory brings with it it's own unique combination of these feelings.  Each reinforces and reassures my heart that if they can happen once, they can happen again.  That I even have the capacity to love and be loved so much means that I can be and will be loved and love even more in the future.

For example:

One summer at Camp, I was working on the support staff, and after our duties were done, we usually had the mid afternoons and nights fairly free.  I liked quite a few of the staff, and even was a little attracted to the girl who ran the Cocoon (the camp store).  But, I really had no intentions to pursue anyone.

I remember one of the female support staff (not the Cocoon girl) asked if she could talk with me in the tree chapel (a very large tree used for devotions, etc.)  I followed her out there and she was hemming and hawing and I really did not know what she was trying to say to me, but I just listened.  She finally said, "Steve, I think I love you!"  I fell off of the tree limb on was on.   This was the first time in my life I ever heard that.  I was so shocked!  But, I felt wonderful.  Really wonderful.   I remember saying that we would see where this goes, but that I did not know her that well, but was more than willing to learn more about her.

While recalling this memory, I felt the same sense of shock and awe that I did then.  The same surprise that someone would even think that of me, let alone say it out loud.  It was a delicious feeling, and a great addition to my meditation.

There was another situation in High School when I was in band when one of my friends was freaking out because she had not completed her math work, but had band, and then a meeting before her class so that she did not know when she would finish her homework.  Because we treated our instrument cubbyholes as lockers, her homework was just there, behind her instrument case.  When she left for her meeting, and I was in the band room, I took out her homework and finished it for her and put it back in her folder.

I never heard, nor asked what happened when she went to math class.  I still don't know.   However, the feeling of being able to help her out, especially anonymously, was just a great sense of joy for me.  I would even say it was love, though back then, I would never have labeled it as such.

I would strongly encourage everyone to try recalling loving moments in your life.  It will recharge your heart, and spirit at the least, and give you ideas for how to love and be loved for the future.