I’m doing some drawing these days. Just for fun. Always wanted to. Now I am. In a video I watched recently one of my favorite online art instructors Alphonso Dunn stresses the importance of patience relative to the artist’s task. He says, "Don’t rush your drawings. The faster you draw the more you increase your margin of error." So, s-l-o-w-l-y, I’m learning the truth of which Alphonso speaks! I am realizing that whenever I consciously exercise patience I actually draw something that pleases me. And when I don’t? Well, then I don’t.
This is all good—but nothing new, right?
Then, while “patiently” drawing one evening, I had one of those “Aha!” moments. It occurred to me—no, it struck me—that in addition to learning how to draw, this experience is serving as the portal or window to a much larger lesson in the fine art of patience--a lesson I don't just want to learn--I need to learn. Fast!
This is how I often experience wisdom* revealing its “art” in my life. Wisdom is everywhere and always…which means that wherever I am and whatever I'm doing, it is always right here right now ready and waiting to awaken me to the deep truths of my life (the ones that lie just beneath my surface, seeking out the cracks in my highly polished and protective ego where they can seep through to the surface of my awareness.) In this instance, via the medium of drawing, I feel wisdom beckoning me to consciously practice patience so that I can come to know its place, its purpose, and its power in all areas of my life.
So how do I draw patience? One way is simply through practicing the wisdom that its presence and potential are right here, right now—whether I am or not.
"Above all, trust in the slow work of God." **
Pierre Teilhard de Chardin
*(If you prefer to replace the word “wisdom” with “God” please do so. Personally, these days I find the term “God” to be too small and confining as I often hear it being used by both Christians and non-Christians alike. This is not new either--and is probably a reason why “wisdom” is only one among many names for God in the bible. For examples, see Exodus 31:3 and I Corinthians 1:30)
**See Chardin's beautiful poem "Trust in the Slow Work of God" at www.deeper-devotion.net/slow-work-of-God.html
Monday, October 15, 2018
Tuesday, July 31, 2018
OUR TRUE NATURE
We spend our summers at a lake cottage on the coast of Maine but this week my wife and I did something different. We enjoyed a house swap, staying in a flat just across the Hudson River from New York City. We took in museums, a Broadway musical, outdoor concert, comedy club, dinners out, subway, bus, ferry, taxi rides, Grand Central Station, Time Square, NYC Library, etc. Had a great time--while surrounded almost completely by concrete, glass, steel, construction, non-stop noise, smells, lights, action--and much of the time we were shoulder to shoulder with people speaking languages from around the world.
Two things struck me. 1. The kindness of complete strangers who took initiative to be helpful on many occasions. 2. In the midst of all the concrete, steel and glass, signs of the presence of nature were everywhere . . . the Hudson River, waterfowl, birds, bugs, worms, wasps, cats, dogs, flowers, bushes, huge shade trees and gorgeous gardens on top of many of the buildings...and of course, smack dab in the middle of Manhattan is the magnificent Central Park with streams and ponds, bike trails and walking paths, glens of mature trees, large grassy areas and a zoo!
Our deep human need for connection with the rest of the natural world was so obvious in the architecture, landscaping and urban planning of properties both public and private. Even the home we stayed in had a lovely oriental garden in the backyard. Every morning I sat on the couch and did my meditation while gazing out four large glass patio doors at tiered bamboo plants swaying gently in the breeze. And to top it all off, on our last night we watched the full moon rise over the Manhattan skyline.
While mesmerized by the moon's sallow beauty, I found myself thinking that no matter where we are or what we do we simply can't separate ourselves from nature--from our nature. It isn't just all around us. It's in us . . . just as we're in it . . . and, as part of nature, either we're in this all together or we're not in it at all.
That's an inspiring, if sobering, thought.
"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. (Isaiah 55:12)
Two things struck me. 1. The kindness of complete strangers who took initiative to be helpful on many occasions. 2. In the midst of all the concrete, steel and glass, signs of the presence of nature were everywhere . . . the Hudson River, waterfowl, birds, bugs, worms, wasps, cats, dogs, flowers, bushes, huge shade trees and gorgeous gardens on top of many of the buildings...and of course, smack dab in the middle of Manhattan is the magnificent Central Park with streams and ponds, bike trails and walking paths, glens of mature trees, large grassy areas and a zoo!
Our deep human need for connection with the rest of the natural world was so obvious in the architecture, landscaping and urban planning of properties both public and private. Even the home we stayed in had a lovely oriental garden in the backyard. Every morning I sat on the couch and did my meditation while gazing out four large glass patio doors at tiered bamboo plants swaying gently in the breeze. And to top it all off, on our last night we watched the full moon rise over the Manhattan skyline.
While mesmerized by the moon's sallow beauty, I found myself thinking that no matter where we are or what we do we simply can't separate ourselves from nature--from our nature. It isn't just all around us. It's in us . . . just as we're in it . . . and, as part of nature, either we're in this all together or we're not in it at all.
That's an inspiring, if sobering, thought.
"You will go out in joy and be led forth in peace; the mountains and hills will burst into song before you, and all the trees of the field will clap their hands. (Isaiah 55:12)
Tuesday, July 24, 2018
SUMMONED BY LOVE
Just turned one, all of one.
Wiggly. Resolute. Joyful. Cranky.
Perpetual motion. Emotion. Commotion.
Jonah: my grandson.
He reaches for me.
No, throws himself at me,
knowing without knowing
that I will catch him.
“Leap, and the net will appear.”
The feeling elicited in me? Joy.
Such pure, sweet expression of vulnerability,
such harmonious fusion of need and desire,
such confident invitation into intimacy!
Love’s ancient and ageless summons,
this is what it looks like coming from one of one.
In the same instant freely given,
completely captivating.
To be sought after by one so young,
thereby invited into love’s rules of engagement,
is instantaneously disarming,
heart-warming, reorienting.
If such an incontrovertible subpoena by love
doesn’t immediately reset
all our defaults and presets,
all our attitudes and altitudes,
we’d better check to see
if we still have
a pulse.
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)
Wiggly. Resolute. Joyful. Cranky.
Perpetual motion. Emotion. Commotion.
Jonah: my grandson.
He reaches for me.
No, throws himself at me,
knowing without knowing
that I will catch him.
“Leap, and the net will appear.”
The feeling elicited in me? Joy.
Such pure, sweet expression of vulnerability,
such harmonious fusion of need and desire,
such confident invitation into intimacy!
Love’s ancient and ageless summons,
this is what it looks like coming from one of one.
In the same instant freely given,
completely captivating.
To be sought after by one so young,
thereby invited into love’s rules of engagement,
is instantaneously disarming,
heart-warming, reorienting.
If such an incontrovertible subpoena by love
doesn’t immediately reset
all our defaults and presets,
all our attitudes and altitudes,
we’d better check to see
if we still have
a pulse.
Jesus said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these.” (Matthew 19:14)
Monday, July 16, 2018
JOY HAS COME
Today,
I want my every thought, every word,
every emotion, and every action
to be bathed and buffed,
cleansed and clothed in Joy.
Today,
I will practice both living in
and living out this Joy
from this moment of sweet awakening
until, at its close, that moment of savored rest.
Today,
I will treat all of creation
with whom and with which I share
this gloriously alive moment of Life
with such Joy as Joy entreats me.
And then, at the end of this day,
before I close my eyes to its length and light,
I will look back on it and know
that Joy has come to me, too.
"You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, (Psalm 30:11)
I want my every thought, every word,
every emotion, and every action
to be bathed and buffed,
cleansed and clothed in Joy.
Today,
I will practice both living in
and living out this Joy
from this moment of sweet awakening
until, at its close, that moment of savored rest.
Today,
I will treat all of creation
with whom and with which I share
this gloriously alive moment of Life
with such Joy as Joy entreats me.
And then, at the end of this day,
before I close my eyes to its length and light,
I will look back on it and know
that Joy has come to me, too.
"You have turned my mourning into dancing; you have taken off my sackcloth and clothed me with joy, (Psalm 30:11)
Friday, July 6, 2018
BOTH WAYS
Closing my eyes, I try to imagine what it must have been like to hear Jesus speak the Beatitudes that first time there on a hillside overlooking the Sea of Galilee on what was likely another beautiful and sunny, if earth-scorching, day.
Frankly, for some these words must have been deeply disturbing and even threatening as it’s likely the crowd included at least a smattering of the rich and powerful who had simply come to check this “Jesus” character out. For them Jesus’ words must have felt like a scathing rebuke of the practices of the reigning powers-that-be (to which they may have adhered and belonged) and their tightly held value system that kept the poor poor and the peace-makers persecuted.
For others Jesus’ words must have been incredibly freeing, inspiring and even exhilarating!—the kind of words that none of us can get enough of in our lives. Some in the crowd must have literally filled their lungs deeply with fresh vitality grounded in this new and expanding definition of blessing. They must have looked into each other’s sad, tired and maybe depressed eyes and smiled irresistibly at each other, maybe laughed deeply with each other, maybe even hugged and danced in place--joy bubbling up from somewhere deep inside at these incredibly life-giving words! They must have been giddy with hope, with feeling “Wow! No one’s ever put it that way before! My life is worth living! GOD LOVES ME, TOO. GOD’S BLESSING IS UPON ME AFTER ALL!”
Personally, I believe I need to hear these bold words both ways. The part of me that perpetuates and benefits from the practices of the world’s current powers-that-be needs to hear in Jesus’ words the thinly-veiled rebuke of a value system that thrives by virtue of inhumane domination of all creation. At the same time, the part of me that wants to dance with delight in the newfound joy, hope and well-being that these words cause to well up from deep in my soul needs to know that Jesus is talking directly, joyfully, lovingly, and most of all, UNMISTAKABLY to me...and you.
When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you (falsely) because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:1–12)
Frankly, for some these words must have been deeply disturbing and even threatening as it’s likely the crowd included at least a smattering of the rich and powerful who had simply come to check this “Jesus” character out. For them Jesus’ words must have felt like a scathing rebuke of the practices of the reigning powers-that-be (to which they may have adhered and belonged) and their tightly held value system that kept the poor poor and the peace-makers persecuted.
For others Jesus’ words must have been incredibly freeing, inspiring and even exhilarating!—the kind of words that none of us can get enough of in our lives. Some in the crowd must have literally filled their lungs deeply with fresh vitality grounded in this new and expanding definition of blessing. They must have looked into each other’s sad, tired and maybe depressed eyes and smiled irresistibly at each other, maybe laughed deeply with each other, maybe even hugged and danced in place--joy bubbling up from somewhere deep inside at these incredibly life-giving words! They must have been giddy with hope, with feeling “Wow! No one’s ever put it that way before! My life is worth living! GOD LOVES ME, TOO. GOD’S BLESSING IS UPON ME AFTER ALL!”
Personally, I believe I need to hear these bold words both ways. The part of me that perpetuates and benefits from the practices of the world’s current powers-that-be needs to hear in Jesus’ words the thinly-veiled rebuke of a value system that thrives by virtue of inhumane domination of all creation. At the same time, the part of me that wants to dance with delight in the newfound joy, hope and well-being that these words cause to well up from deep in my soul needs to know that Jesus is talking directly, joyfully, lovingly, and most of all, UNMISTAKABLY to me...and you.
When he saw the crowds, he went up the mountain, and after he had sat down, his disciples came to him. He began to teach them, saying:
“Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek, for they will inherit the land.
Blessed are they who hunger and thirst for righteousness, for they will be satisfied.
Blessed are the merciful, for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the clean of heart, for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers, for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are they who are persecuted for the sake of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are you when they insult you and persecute you and utter every kind of evil against you (falsely) because of me.
Rejoice and be glad, for your reward will be great in heaven. Thus they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:1–12)
Friday, June 29, 2018
HOMING: A French Pantoum Poem
Homing toward that something to which we are tethered
The never-ending process of being
A willingness to give up one’s willfulness
Homage, loyalty, serenity and then, in the quiet space: joy
The never-ending process of being
What if it’s not what you think?
Homage, loyalty, serenity and then, in the quiet space; joy
A gift that keeps on giving
What if it’s not what you think?
A willingness to give up one’s willfulness
A gift that keeps on giving
Homing toward that something to which we are tethered
Sunday, June 3, 2018
THE FIREWORKS WITHIN YOU
Greetings, My Love
I am here to speak to you
through symbols, powerful symbols,
in words intended more to be felt
than heard.
I speak from inside of fireworks
igniting fireworks igniting fireworks.
I am the fireworks
that are firing within you these days
...indeed, in all your days.
And, as with multi-stage fireworks,
I am the first one,
not complete until the last
has spoken.
I am the last,
which cannot speak
until those that come before me
have burst forth in all their splendor.
Each is a “Bravo!”
igniting a “Bravo!”
igniting a “Bravo!”
Each is a celebration
igniting a celebration
igniting a celebration
Of you.
Who am I, you ask,
that I might so boldly speak
such deep and glorious truths?
I am your joy.
I am here to speak to you
through symbols, powerful symbols,
in words intended more to be felt
than heard.
I speak from inside of fireworks
igniting fireworks igniting fireworks.
I am the fireworks
that are firing within you these days
...indeed, in all your days.
And, as with multi-stage fireworks,
I am the first one,
not complete until the last
has spoken.
I am the last,
which cannot speak
until those that come before me
have burst forth in all their splendor.
Each is a “Bravo!”
igniting a “Bravo!”
igniting a “Bravo!”
Each is a celebration
igniting a celebration
igniting a celebration
Of you.
Who am I, you ask,
that I might so boldly speak
such deep and glorious truths?
I am your joy.
"I have told you this so that my joy may be in you and that your joy may be full." (John 15:11)
Friday, May 18, 2018
"THIS IS HOW I DO IT."
In other words,
“This is how I do life,”
or at least,
this or that little piece of it.
No, it’s not a banner my ego
needs to raise up high for all to see.
It's just a quiet testimonial
that I am who I am
along with its silently liberating corollary:
you are who you are
—and that this is good, right
and salutary.
You can stake the same claim.
After all, uniqueness is by no means exclusive.
It knows no bounds.
It may not even be unique to this universe.
No one knows.
What we do know is this. . .
you and I can treasure
our own and each other’s distinctiveness.
What we do know is that. . .
by doing so we--and all life around us--
will flourish within this sweet reality.
So no, “This is how I do it,”
is not some self-aggrandizing declaration
I need to strut, peacock-like,
before you or anyone else,
not even the sky above.
It's simply a statement
that I secretly speak from time to time
to reorient my inner compass toward
its delightfully emancipating
"true north."
I gently whisper it into my mind’s ear
—especially at those times when
I’ve forgotten who I am,
and I’ve tried to be someone else
(probably you)
and I’ve spilled over
into their (probably your) space.
Again.
What I do need
—and want—
to say to you and the cosmos
is this:
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry for all the times
when I try to change you
because I’ve forgotten who I am,
for all the times when I succumb to thinking
that you or something about you
looks better to me than me,
and for all the times when I do not
respect, cherish and nurture your own
“This is how I do life.”
"When I look at your heavens. . . the moon and the stars. . . what are human beings that you are mindful of them?. . . Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them [each] with glory and honor. " (Psalm 8:3-5)
“This is how I do life,”
or at least,
this or that little piece of it.
No, it’s not a banner my ego
needs to raise up high for all to see.
It's just a quiet testimonial
that I am who I am
along with its silently liberating corollary:
you are who you are
—and that this is good, right
and salutary.
You can stake the same claim.
After all, uniqueness is by no means exclusive.
It knows no bounds.
It may not even be unique to this universe.
No one knows.
What we do know is this. . .
you and I can treasure
our own and each other’s distinctiveness.
What we do know is that. . .
by doing so we--and all life around us--
will flourish within this sweet reality.
So no, “This is how I do it,”
is not some self-aggrandizing declaration
I need to strut, peacock-like,
before you or anyone else,
not even the sky above.
It's simply a statement
that I secretly speak from time to time
to reorient my inner compass toward
its delightfully emancipating
"true north."
I gently whisper it into my mind’s ear
—especially at those times when
I’ve forgotten who I am,
and I’ve tried to be someone else
(probably you)
and I’ve spilled over
into their (probably your) space.
Again.
What I do need
—and want—
to say to you and the cosmos
is this:
“I’m sorry.”
I’m sorry for all the times
when I try to change you
because I’ve forgotten who I am,
for all the times when I succumb to thinking
that you or something about you
looks better to me than me,
and for all the times when I do not
respect, cherish and nurture your own
“This is how I do life.”
"When I look at your heavens. . . the moon and the stars. . . what are human beings that you are mindful of them?. . . Yet you have made them a little lower than God, and crowned them [each] with glory and honor. " (Psalm 8:3-5)
Tuesday, April 10, 2018
ONCE AGAIN,
Once again,
I’ve come here, to the quiet.
I’ve come to be with you, God.
I’ve come to be caressed by your joy.
Once again, I’ve forgotten that I am of you.
So, I’ve forgotten the joy with which you created me,
I’ve forgotten the joy with which you called me into being
from out of your being.
But now,
even in this brief moment of attending
to the you in me,
I know healing is happening.
Joy is returning.
Once again,
you create in me a clean heart, O God.
You renew a right spirit within me.
You cast me not away from your presence.
You take not your holy spirit from me.
You restore in me the joy of your salvation.
And you uphold me with your freeing spirit.
Once again, I see
It is you, not me.
You make me whole.
More.
I see
you make me.
Over and over and over.
You create me—once again,
as in the first making of all things.
And I give thanks.
I trumpet your grandeur
even as I shine with your ecstasy.
Yes,
there is much I don't know,
there is much I don’t understand
about you,
about me.
But once again,
I will trust in you today
even as you will trust in me.
And trust is so much bigger than knowing,
so much bigger than understanding
so much bigger than me.
Once again,
I’m glad I came.
(Psalm 51:10-12)
I’ve come here, to the quiet.
I’ve come to be with you, God.
I’ve come to be caressed by your joy.
Once again, I’ve forgotten that I am of you.
So, I’ve forgotten the joy with which you created me,
I’ve forgotten the joy with which you called me into being
from out of your being.
But now,
even in this brief moment of attending
to the you in me,
I know healing is happening.
Joy is returning.
Once again,
you create in me a clean heart, O God.
You renew a right spirit within me.
You cast me not away from your presence.
You take not your holy spirit from me.
You restore in me the joy of your salvation.
And you uphold me with your freeing spirit.
Once again, I see
It is you, not me.
You make me whole.
More.
I see
you make me.
Over and over and over.
You create me—once again,
as in the first making of all things.
And I give thanks.
I trumpet your grandeur
even as I shine with your ecstasy.
Yes,
there is much I don't know,
there is much I don’t understand
about you,
about me.
But once again,
I will trust in you today
even as you will trust in me.
And trust is so much bigger than knowing,
so much bigger than understanding
so much bigger than me.
Once again,
I’m glad I came.
(Psalm 51:10-12)
Saturday, March 24, 2018
THE MARY MOMENT
This Godness within.
It pulls at us,
this voice calling from out of a darkness
so vast, so otherworldly,
even angelic.
It tugs at us with such strength and tenacity
that it disarms us.
It bursts the bonds of our fears,
our pride, our self-aggrandizing egos.
With it a new morning breaks upon us.
With it comes a dual awakening
—this Godness within is truly God
—this Godness within is truly me.
At first, we wonder.
It feels foreign,
maybe even fake.
“Where is this coming from?
Can I trust it?” we ask.
But in time we realize,
“This is my truest reality,
my inmost identity,
my deepest self.”
From it blooms the who
that you and I are to the world.
From it comes the fruitage,
the why for which we have come.
From this “Mary moment” forward,
there is no longer a need to wonder.
Only to wander.
And ponder.
For the reaches of the Holy within are cosmic.
Here no one place is safe. It is all safe.
Here no one place is sacred. It is all sacred.
“I’m home,” we will say.
“I’m finally home,”
with a joy and certitude, and a grace
which only a moment ago was invisible
Yet now feels so true,
and now looms so large
before the eye of our eyes.
Entering here, we experience a holy beyond
any church, any synagogue,
any mosque, any mountain.
It is the holy of holies
within each of us.
All of us.
A place so safe
that we hear ourselves whispering to God,
“Here, have your way with me,”
while knowing that so vulnerable a surrender
will in no way endanger us
but instead, lovingly free us,
transmuting us
from our fears,
from our pride,
from our egos.
Here we offer a consent,
and an appendix—
a daring cry to be freed
from our own small selves so that,
forsaking our falseness,
we are unfettered to roam the far reaches
of this Godness within
—and then without.
So, feel it.
Let your soul sense it.
Succumb to its tender beckoning.
Let its fullness come upon you.
Let its power eclipse you.
Each time we do,
each time we give our small selves over to it,
we will know that which our souls have been seeking.
And, our hearts will speak a wisdom
with unrestrained slapdash and delight.
They will exude a song so sweet,
and thrill so deep,
that we cannot help but voice
a resounding “Yes!” to Life.
The great awakening.
This Godness within
is truly God, truly me!
We can marvel at its gentle way,
wander in its well-being,
and be pleased.
“Then Mary said [to the angel Gabriel], "Here am I. . . let it be with me according to your word,” (Luke 1:38)
It pulls at us,
this voice calling from out of a darkness
so vast, so otherworldly,
even angelic.
It tugs at us with such strength and tenacity
that it disarms us.
It bursts the bonds of our fears,
our pride, our self-aggrandizing egos.
With it a new morning breaks upon us.
With it comes a dual awakening
—this Godness within is truly God
—this Godness within is truly me.
At first, we wonder.
It feels foreign,
maybe even fake.
“Where is this coming from?
Can I trust it?” we ask.
But in time we realize,
“This is my truest reality,
my inmost identity,
my deepest self.”
From it blooms the who
that you and I are to the world.
From it comes the fruitage,
the why for which we have come.
From this “Mary moment” forward,
there is no longer a need to wonder.
Only to wander.
And ponder.
For the reaches of the Holy within are cosmic.
Here no one place is safe. It is all safe.
Here no one place is sacred. It is all sacred.
“I’m home,” we will say.
“I’m finally home,”
with a joy and certitude, and a grace
which only a moment ago was invisible
Yet now feels so true,
and now looms so large
before the eye of our eyes.
Entering here, we experience a holy beyond
any church, any synagogue,
any mosque, any mountain.
It is the holy of holies
within each of us.
All of us.
A place so safe
that we hear ourselves whispering to God,
“Here, have your way with me,”
while knowing that so vulnerable a surrender
will in no way endanger us
but instead, lovingly free us,
transmuting us
from our fears,
from our pride,
from our egos.
Here we offer a consent,
and an appendix—
a daring cry to be freed
from our own small selves so that,
forsaking our falseness,
we are unfettered to roam the far reaches
of this Godness within
—and then without.
So, feel it.
Let your soul sense it.
Succumb to its tender beckoning.
Let its fullness come upon you.
Let its power eclipse you.
Each time we do,
each time we give our small selves over to it,
we will know that which our souls have been seeking.
And, our hearts will speak a wisdom
with unrestrained slapdash and delight.
They will exude a song so sweet,
and thrill so deep,
that we cannot help but voice
a resounding “Yes!” to Life.
The great awakening.
This Godness within
is truly God, truly me!
We can marvel at its gentle way,
wander in its well-being,
and be pleased.
“Then Mary said [to the angel Gabriel], "Here am I. . . let it be with me according to your word,” (Luke 1:38)
Friday, March 16, 2018
SLOW ALL THE WAY DOWN TO NOW
It’s astonishing!
How much more we see
when we slow down!
No,
I don’t mean
slowing down
just long enough
so we can catch our breath
so we can speed up again.
And no,
I’m not talking about just
moving out of the fast lane.
I don’t mean slowing down by half.
Not even half of half.
Stop!
Today,
if only for a few moments,
slow all the way down to now.
Slow down to this moment
—just this moment.
When we do
we see more of the magnificent
as well as the mundane,
more of the extraordinary
in the ordinary,
more of the beautiful
beneath the ugly.
We’ll be surprised,
more than likely stunned,
maybe even stupefied
by what we see.
“Has this always been here?”
we’ll ask incredulously.
Life will seductively respond,
“Yes…and so much more!”
We’ll see things
—things we’ve been missing—
joy, love, forgiveness, kindness, appreciation, splendor
—to name just a few.
And we’ll be the wiser, the richer, the fuller for it—
more joyful…and less judgmental,
more loving…and less loathing,
more forgiving…and less frightening,
more kind…and less callous,
more appreciative…and less arrogant,
more awed…and less apathetic.
We will discover where we had only known.
We will know where we had only wondered.
We will wonder where we had only doubted.
We will doubt where we had only been certain.
In short,
we will see
—as if for a first time—
what has been here all along.
How much more we see
when we slow down!
No,
I don’t mean
slowing down
just long enough
so we can catch our breath
so we can speed up again.
And no,
I’m not talking about just
moving out of the fast lane.
I don’t mean slowing down by half.
Not even half of half.
Stop!
Today,
if only for a few moments,
slow all the way down to now.
Slow down to this moment
—just this moment.
When we do
we see more of the magnificent
as well as the mundane,
more of the extraordinary
in the ordinary,
more of the beautiful
beneath the ugly.
We’ll be surprised,
more than likely stunned,
maybe even stupefied
by what we see.
“Has this always been here?”
we’ll ask incredulously.
Life will seductively respond,
“Yes…and so much more!”
We’ll see things
—things we’ve been missing—
joy, love, forgiveness, kindness, appreciation, splendor
—to name just a few.
And we’ll be the wiser, the richer, the fuller for it—
more joyful…and less judgmental,
more loving…and less loathing,
more forgiving…and less frightening,
more kind…and less callous,
more appreciative…and less arrogant,
more awed…and less apathetic.
We will discover where we had only known.
We will know where we had only wondered.
We will wonder where we had only doubted.
We will doubt where we had only been certain.
In short,
we will see
—as if for a first time—
what has been here all along.
“Be still, and know that I am God.” (Psalm 46:10)
Monday, March 5, 2018
POINT OF PERSONAL PRIVILEGE
It’s so easy
to look around
and envy people who appear to be
more “privileged” than we are.
We need not look far.
Seems, at any given moment,
just about anyone
will fill the bill.
But stop right there.
You are by far the most privileged person you know.
You are the only one who gets to determine
The who,
the what,
the when,
the where,
the why…
of you.
You get to determine
the direction of your life
in this—and for that matter—
every other moment.
Sure, there are outside influences,
external forces,
extenuating circumstances.
And some of them
come pretty close
to being “givens.”
Givens over which you seem to have little or no control,
givens that govern,
givens that will get to you...
if you let them.
But all,
and I mean all of them,
are external, right?
And, being external,
their sway and swagger are only
as great (or small)
as significant (or insignificant),
and influential (or inconsequential),
as expanding (or constricting),
as empowering (or disempowering)
as you choose
to let
or make
them be.
My point is simply this:
Internal is where it’s at.
“Internal” here defined as our inner state of well being
where the point of our personal privilege resides.
Oh,
some have more wealth,
some have more status,
more opportunity,
more beauty,
talent,
youth,
friends,
ad nauseam
—or so it may seem.
And yes,
some have fewer troubles,
some have fewer issues,
fewer problems,
fewer setbacks,
obstacles,
bumps,
bruises,
bills.
Ditto.
But, may I remind you
no one else…and I mean no one else,
enjoys the inexplicably deep personal privilege of being you.
No one else is the unique "one and only" individual you are.
No one else is the one-of-a-kind expression of life’s love you are.
No one else is the inimitable microcosm of the universe you are.
No one.
So stop stomping on everyone else’s personal privilege.
Instead, focus on living in—and out—
of your own.
And for that matter,
stop stomping on your own personal privilege.
You’ve sabotaged yourself long enough.
It stops here.
It stops now.
This is it.
From now on,
every time you feel the urge to sabotage
the incredible point of personal privilege with skin on it that
you and you alone are—
Stop!
Take a deep breath.
Maybe even sigh deeply once or twice.
Let go of it.
Regroup.
Reset.
Lovingly, forgivingly, compassionately
look yourself in the I
and admit it:
Life is hard
That’s just the way it is,
It's the way it usually comes
—even on a good day.
Then,
pick your point of personal privilege up off the floor.
Breath slowly…deeply….joyfully…into it
and go…
kiss the world.
to look around
and envy people who appear to be
more “privileged” than we are.
We need not look far.
Seems, at any given moment,
just about anyone
will fill the bill.
But stop right there.
You are by far the most privileged person you know.
You are the only one who gets to determine
The who,
the what,
the when,
the where,
the why…
of you.
You get to determine
the direction of your life
in this—and for that matter—
every other moment.
Sure, there are outside influences,
external forces,
extenuating circumstances.
And some of them
come pretty close
to being “givens.”
Givens over which you seem to have little or no control,
givens that govern,
givens that will get to you...
if you let them.
But all,
and I mean all of them,
are external, right?
And, being external,
their sway and swagger are only
as great (or small)
as significant (or insignificant),
and influential (or inconsequential),
as expanding (or constricting),
as empowering (or disempowering)
as you choose
to let
or make
them be.
My point is simply this:
Internal is where it’s at.
“Internal” here defined as our inner state of well being
where the point of our personal privilege resides.
Oh,
some have more wealth,
some have more status,
more opportunity,
more beauty,
talent,
youth,
friends,
ad nauseam
—or so it may seem.
And yes,
some have fewer troubles,
some have fewer issues,
fewer problems,
fewer setbacks,
obstacles,
bumps,
bruises,
bills.
Ditto.
But, may I remind you
no one else…and I mean no one else,
enjoys the inexplicably deep personal privilege of being you.
No one else is the unique "one and only" individual you are.
No one else is the one-of-a-kind expression of life’s love you are.
No one else is the inimitable microcosm of the universe you are.
No one.
So stop stomping on everyone else’s personal privilege.
Instead, focus on living in—and out—
of your own.
And for that matter,
stop stomping on your own personal privilege.
You’ve sabotaged yourself long enough.
It stops here.
It stops now.
This is it.
From now on,
every time you feel the urge to sabotage
the incredible point of personal privilege with skin on it that
you and you alone are—
Stop!
Take a deep breath.
Maybe even sigh deeply once or twice.
Let go of it.
Regroup.
Reset.
Lovingly, forgivingly, compassionately
look yourself in the I
and admit it:
Life is hard
That’s just the way it is,
It's the way it usually comes
—even on a good day.
Then,
pick your point of personal privilege up off the floor.
Breath slowly…deeply….joyfully…into it
and go…
kiss the world.
“…and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Matthew 22:39)
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