Category: Main blog

This moving poem was sent out to one of our Sufi lists today.

SINGULARITY
by Marie Howe

          (after Stephen Hawking)

Do you sometimes want to wake up to the singularity
we once were?

so compact nobody
needed a bed, or food or money —

nobody hiding in the school bathroom
or home alone

pulling open the drawer
where the pills are kept.

For every atom belonging to me as good
Belongs to you.   Remember?

There was no   Nature.    No
 them.   No tests

to determine if the elephant
grieves her calf    or if

the coral reef feels pain.    Trashed
oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;

would that we could wake up   to what we were
— when we were ocean    and before that

to when sky was earth, and animal was energy, and rock was
liquid and stars were space and space was not

at all — nothing

before we came to believe humans were so important
before this awful loneliness.

Can molecules recall it?
what once was?    before anything happened?

No I, no We, no one. No was
No verb      no noun
only a tiny tiny dot brimming with

is is is is is

All   everything   home

I read this in the latest issue of “Listen” – the newsletter for Spiritual Companions and it was so beautiful and profound I had to pass it on. It is directed toward female-bodied folx, but I can absolutely find a way that it relates to me in my current male body as well.

Nocturn
by Liza Hyatt

In the dark, middle of night, in the deep middle of the middle of life, may you wake, feeling the familiar fear, and suddenly realize you are in the midst of slowly, painfully, giving birth, and have, for years, been in labor, losing, growing,

and may you mutter, “Midwife,” in confusion turning to prayer, begging the dark to help you, and hear the poetry, midwife, midlife, midlife, midwife,

and be calmed by this, letting Midlife do her work,

attending the birthing chamber where who you were, that too-tight, tight-skinned, tightly clothed, tightly wound young woman, has been opened out, spreading wide, like a snake-skin, like a vulva, from which is emerging that wild, white haired, loose and expansive, grinning and playful old woman, who must be your Soul.

LIZA HYATT is a poet whose books include Once, There Was a Canal (Chatter House Press, 2017), The Mother Poems (Chatter House Press, 2014), Under My Skin, (WordTech Editions, 2012). Liza is an art therapist in Indianapolis. She is currently a student in the Spiritual Guidance Training Institute. You can contact her at lizahyatt@gmail.com

Neil Douglas Klotz, or Saadi is a former member of our Ruhaniat Sufi Order and an amazing scholar, thinker, mystic, and teacher.

When I saw this posting as part of Fr. Richard Rohr’s blog I was moved to share it as something we are all in need of, and/or providing to others in these times.

Finding the Source of Comfort

Earlier this week, we [Richard Rohr’s Blog site] shared a meditation from Megan McKenna on the importance of translation. Scholar and author Neil Douglas-Klotz has worked for decades with the Aramaic language, which Jesus most likely spoke as a first-century Jewish man from Nazareth. Because translation is never an exact science, Dr. Douglas-Klotz offers several possible understandings of Jesus’ teaching “Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted.”

Blessed are those in emotional turmoil; they shall be united inside by love.

Healthy are those weak and overextended for their purpose; they shall feel their inner flow of strength return.

Healed are those who weep for their frustrated desire; they shall see the face of fulfillment in a new form.

Aligned with the One are the mourners; they shall be comforted.

Turned to the Source are those feeling deeply confused by life; they shall be returned from their wandering.

Dr. Douglas-Klotz continues:

Lawile can mean “mourners” (as translated from the Greek), but in Aramaic it also carries the sense of those who long deeply for something to occur, those troubled or in emotional turmoil, or those who are weak and in want from such longing. Netbayun can mean “comforted,” but also connotes being returned from wandering, united inside by love, feeling an inner continuity, or seeing the arrival of (literally, the face of) what one longs for.

Dr. Douglas-Klotz offers this embodied prayer practice to help readers sense the powerful message of this beatitude.

When in emotional turmoil—or unable to clearly feel any emotion—experiment in this fashion: breathe in while feeling the word lawile (lay-wee-ley) [longing]; breathe out while feeling the word netbayun (net-bah-yoon) [loving]. Embrace all of what you feel and allow all emotions to wash through as though you were standing under a gentle waterfall. Follow this flow back to its source and find there the spring from which all emotion arises. At this source, consider what emotion has meaning for the moment, what action or nonaction is important now.

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.

Neil Douglas-Klotz, Prayers of the Cosmos: Meditations on the Aramaic Words of Jesus (HarperSanFrancisco: 1990), 50, 51, 52.

It’s been a while since I posted as we’ve been enjoying a very full summer of 🚶‍♂️ hikes and gatherings. And we’re off again for a week on the east coast with our son. So, this seemed like a beautiful sharing to leave you all with for a bit.

From Fr Richard Rohr’s blog:

Praying the Lord’s Prayer

Perhaps some of the most comforting words Jesus shared in Matthew and Luke’s Gospels are the prayer we Christians call the Our Father or the Lord’s Prayer. While the prayer is most often said in community or as part of ritual prayer, this prayer can also be a contemplative practice when prayed slowly and mindfully, perhaps even as lectio divina. We invite you to pray this modern version of the prayer of Jesus from the Anglican Church of New Zealand, which both honors and reflects indigenous Maori culture.

Eternal Spirit,
Earth-maker, Pain-bearer, Life-giver,
Source of all that is and that shall be,
Father and Mother of us all,
Loving God, in whom is heaven:

The hallowing of your name echo through the universe!
The way of your justice be followed by the peoples
        of the world!
Your heavenly will be done by all created beings!
Your commonwealth of peace and freedom
        sustain our hope and come on earth.

With the bread we need for today, feed us.
In the hurts we absorb from one another, forgive us.
In times of temptation and test, strengthen us.
From trials too great to endure, spare us.
From the grip of all that is evil, free us.

For you reign in the glory of the power that is love,
       now and for ever. Amen.

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.

Church of the Province of New Zealand, A New Zealand Prayer Book, He Karakia Mihinare o Aotearoa (Collins Liturgical Publications: 1989), 181.

With gratitude to sister Tarana who posted this on her FB feed.

************

All day I think about it, then at night I say it.
Where did I come from, and what am I supposed to be doing?
I have no idea.
My soul is from elsewhere, I’m sure of that,
and I intend to end up there.

This drunkenness began in some other tavern.
When I get back around to that place,
I’ll be completely sober. Meanwhile,
I’m like a bird from another continent, sitting in this aviary.
The day is coming when I fly off,
but who is it now in my ear who hears my voice?
Who says words with my mouth?

Who looks out with my eyes? What is the soul?
I cannot stop asking.
If I could taste one sip of an answer,
I could break out of this prison for drunks.
I didn’t come here of my own accord, and I can’t leave that way.
Whoever brought me here will have to take me home.

This poetry, I never know what I’m going to say.
I don’t plan it.
When I’m outside the saying of it,
I get very quiet and rarely speak at all.

~Rumi

Fr Richard Rohr’s blogs this week speak about the value of Spiritual Direction for anyone. As a newly certified Spiritual Director/Companion, I truly believe this service can be of great help to anyone regardless of your spiritual path, or even if you don’t consider yourself spiritual but know that you feel a connection to the earth or to physics, etc.

One of the most important skills of a good Spiritual Director/Companion is listening. And as this post suggests, practicing reflective listening where instead of always looking for the way to fix a problem, or find a quick answer, we listen to our inner guidance – what they call the Holy Spirit). Of course, this skill is important for anyone who wants to be of service to our fellow humans. So, this post felt important to share.

If you’re interested in knowing more about Spiritual Direction/Companionship or exploring the possibility of walking your spiritual path with me or other Spiritual Companions, please feel free to contact me at drmatthewsusa@gmail.com.

Reflective Listening

One of the most notable “gifts” of good spiritual directors is their ability to listen well. They aren’t afraid of silence. They listen compassionately and without judgment, and they speak from the heart (and when they are very good and disciplined, only as prompted by the Holy Spirit). While spiritual directors are trained in the act of generous and holy listening, it is a skill we can all develop. Interfaith minister and founder of The Listening Center Kay Lindahl offers these guidelines for reflective listening, which is a gift to both ourselves and those around us.

One of the goals that is emphasized in our culture is finding answers—solving problems, answering questions, removing doubt. We want to know who, what, when, where, and why—and we want to know now. When we listen, we are trained to listen for the answers. . . .

Reflective listening distinguishes a response from an answer. It is a practice to get to know your inner voice, and it takes time and patience.

First, take a few breaths before responding to a situation, question, or comment. In those few seconds, ask yourself what wants to happen next. Then wait for your inner voice to respond. Remember that you are not listening for the answer; you are listening for a response, for your true wisdom to reveal itself.

Most important, as you practice reflection, notice that what you want to say (the ego) matters less than what wants to be said (the soul). Reflective listening is a slowing down, waiting, practicing patience with yourself.

Reflective listening is also about listening for the questions. We are constantly pulled away from our innermost self and encouraged to look for answers instead of listening for the questions. Rainer Maria Rilke’s [1875–1926] advice to the young poet was “Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.” [1]

The practice of listening for the questions—for what wants to be said next—deepens your relationship to your inner voice, your soul, and enhances full self-expression.

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.

[1] Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet, trans. M. D. Herter Norton, rev. ed. 
(W. W. Norton and Company: 1954), 35.

Kay Lindahl, The Sacred Art of Listening: Forty Reflections for Cultivating a Spiritual Practice (Skylight Paths Publishing: 2002), 110, 112. 

Explore further resources and watch Father Richard Rohr explain why more people are asking for—and benefiting from—spiritual direction.

To truly hold the many shadow elements of our world today in radical acceptance requires an ability and capacity for deep mercy toward ourselves and others.

In this post from Fr. Richard Rohr’s blog Zen Buddhist teacher Larry Ward reminds us how important that is and notes, “Mercy lies in our mindful actions of thinking, speech, and behaviors toward ourselves and one another.”

Deep Mercy

Over the last few years in the United States, we (especially those of us who are white) have been asked to examine the collective shadow of racism that has been a part of our nation since its founding. We wrestled with it during the Civil War and again during the civil rights era, but, as we do with so much shadow material, we allowed it to go “underground” and remain there. Part of the reason we do this is because it is so painful to face our shadow and all the destruction we have caused by ignoring it. As Zen Buddhist teacher Larry Ward writes, shadow work requires us to hold the tension of placing our collective shadow within a deeper well of mercy:

The bridge of mercy lies deep within us and among us, however well it is hidden by clouds of conflict, cruelty, and hatred. . . . [But] it seems that as a culture we take great pride in our capacity to be unmerciful. . . .

Look at the prison system in America if you want an example of our collective fragmentation: the United States has the highest rate of incarceration in the world, with 2.3 million people in prison, and of those people, one-third are people of color. This could not happen in a society of merciful people guided by justice and integrity. . . .

We need the experience of what I call deep mercy. Mercy lies in our mindful actions of thinking, speech, and behaviors toward ourselves and one another. We may not seem as if we are capable of collective deep mercy, as expressed in acts that restore a sense of shared humanity with one another. Yet these acts of mercy are not absent; in fact, they are the invisible web that sustains living connection and progress in human history. We have survived as a species by crossing its bridge again and again. . . .

Mercy’s bridge is kept alive by the energies of deep justice flowing back and forth, the truth of suffering beyond the constrictions of the law. It is the justice of our precious bodies being respected and loved concretely as divinely human.

I invite you to spend some time today contemplating a personal or collective shadow, perhaps even journaling about it or speaking with a trusted friend. Accessing the “deep mercy” that Ward describes only comes about when we have allowed our shadow to come to the surface, faced it fully, and chosen a path of healing and justice for all people.

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.

Larry Ward, America’s Racial Karma: An Invitation to Heal (Parallax Press: 2020), 95, 96–97. 

My dear friend Yavash sent this out in an email. So incredibly beautiful and profound. Take time to totally immerse in this – for me it resonated very deeply.

Here’s what Yavash wrote:
“This is one of the most powerful songs I have ever heard about the healing process. I find it utterly inspiring. It hints at a world that we have almost completely forgotten and a relationship with nature and with the One that is still deep inside us but crusted over with so much machinery and electronic dots.

“Here are lyrics and the translation: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/lyfjaberg-healing-mountain.html“

“The language is probably Old Norse or Icelandic. 

“The band is overtly bringing back the pagan beliefs of the Old Norse religion and they seek to be as authentic as possible in their music and quoting of the ballads and ancient poems. They also endeavor to use the ancient pronunciations, but they also use modern Norse dialect in some of their songs.”

With a deep bow of gratitude for my dear friend Amira Sara who posted this on her Facebook and Instagram feeds and gave permission to share it here.

Reflections from the past couple of weeks:

1. It is never an inappropriate time to work in liberation theory and look for ways for it to be grounded in reality.
2. Just because things have been a certain way, doesn’t mean it can’t change into something that is more reflective of the current space and time.
3. People’s trepidation about where you are coming from, or your end game, is oftentimes not about you. That’s when #1, above, becomes handy.
4. It is ok to allow yourself to take up your space, even if it is uncomfortable. Your liberation is valuable and working towards that is what makes it possible to work for others.
5. Community work is sticky, messy, and complicated. Walk tenderly but be like an oak tree; deep roots and a strong trunk. Let your peeps rest against your trunks and give them shade in the hot cultural sun. Sink into your roots and let them nourish you.
6. No matter where you came from, or where you have gone, you belong to this grand creation. It is ok to walk from there.
7. Change is our only constant. Our babies are gonna grow up & our elders are gonna leave. That shit’s hard and deeply beautiful.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. We live in a culture that shames us if we don’t have the body of an athlete in their 20’s. This is something that I truly believe is one of our most difficult and important “norms” to be overcome as we work to live in gratitude for the incredible beauty that is all around us and is us!

Each of us is so incredibly beautiful, magnificent, miraculous, no matter the shape, size, capabilities, or features of the body we are gifted with in this life. This prayer from Fr Richard Rohr’s blog really spoke to this.

Prayer of Thanks for Our Bodies

When we remember to pray for our physical bodies, it is usually because something has gone wrong. We are reminded of our human frailty by an ache, an accident, or a diagnosis. But I hope this week has stirred within us a greater sense of gratitude for our bodies and for the desires that hum through them. This poem and prayer is a psalm of praise for the miraculous nature of our physical existence, in relationship with ourselves, others, and the cosmos.

Thank you for the body that loves me.

My own body:
it tingles me with pleasure
and sends me pain as a warning;
it takes in food and air
and transforms them to life;
it reaches orgasmic bliss
and reveals depths of peace.

Thank you for the body that loves me.

My lover’s body:
it surrounds me with safe arms,
and senses my needs and joys;
it allows me vulnerability,
and enables my ecstasy;
it teaches me how to love
and touches me with love.

Thank you for the body that loves me.

My spiritual community’s body:
it embodies your presence
by embracing mine;
it incarnates your hope
by empowering prophets;
it inspires me with stories
and enchants me with mystery.

Thank you for the body that loves me.

The cosmic and mystical body:  
it calls me to communion
with creatures and creation;
it manifests your glory
and mine as its child;
it upholds my feet
and heals my body.

Thank you for the body that loves me.

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.

From Coming Out to God: Prayers for Lesbians and Gay Men, Their Families and Friends. ©1991 Chris R. Glaser. Used by permission of Westminster John Knox Press. All rights reserved.