One of our dear ones from Talent, Oregon sent out a note to let us know that they were safe and their property was spared. But they are living in a wasteland with no services, no water, no connections, only devastation, smoke, and ash.

Yet he shared this beautiful poem. May it hold us all in the midst of this apocalypse.

All those days you felt like dust, like dirt,
as if all you had to do was turn your face
toward the wind and be scattered to the four corners.

or swept away by the smallest breath as insubstantial—
did you not know what the Holy One can do with dust?

This is the day we freely say we are scorched.
This is the hour we are marked by what has made it through the burning.

This is the moment we ask for the blessing that lives within the ancient (and current) ashes,
that makes its home inside the soil of this sacred earth.

So let us be marked not for sorrow. And let us be marked not for shame. 
Let us be marked not for false humility or for thinking we are less than we are.

but for claiming what God can do within the dust, within the dirt,
within the stuff of which the world is made and the stars that blaze in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral inside the smudge we bear.  

~ Jan Richardson

As I sit in the odd darkness of our smoke-filled skies, this photo essay from the Global Oneness Project feels particularly poignant and timely. The post for today is copied below (follow the link connected to “Dark Skies.” to view the photos):

Darkness is a theme that photographer Roberto “Bear” Guerra documents in this new photo essay “Dark Skies.”  Due to light pollution, dark skies—a term indicating places around the world where one can experience the stars in our Milky Way Galaxy —are endangered.  Bear said, “Given the myriad ways in which we humans have all but severed our connection to the natural world, perhaps none will prove to be as profound as the loss of the night sky and of our connection to the dark.” These photos question our collective discomfort with darkness. They invite us to reconsider our fear of the dark and to welcome the night sky as a window into the exploration of mystery and awe. 

Bear writes, “This photo essay was conceived as a meditation on our profound distancing from the natural world—of which we are all just one small part. What we are currently experiencing during the pandemic is yet another manifestation of this loss. And although the city streets where I made many of these photographs are now empty, I hope that these images will still help us to consider how we might reconnect—with the night, with the natural world, with each other, with ourselves.”

“Dark Skies” and its theme of darkness is an invitation for students to embrace their imagination. “I wonder,” Bear writes, “how I can guide my own child to embrace the night and understand that without darkness we are not just incomplete…we fail to dream.” 

With thanks to my beloved brother Theo for pointing it out on FB:

The Thing Is

BY ELLEN BASS

to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you down like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.

…In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. There is a tendency to fall into being weakened by dwelling on what is outside your reach, by what cannot yet be. Do not focus there. That is spending the wind without raising the sails. We are needed, that is all we can know. And though we meet resistance, we more so will meet great souls who will hail us, love us and guide us, and we will know them when they appear. Didn’t you say you were a believer?

Didn’t you say you pledged to listen to a voice greater? Didn’t you ask for grace? Don’t you remember that to be in grace means to submit to the voice greater? Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach. Any small, calm thing that one soul can do to help another soul, to assist some portion of this poor suffering world, will help immensely. It is not given to us to know which acts or by whom, will cause the critical mass to tip toward an enduring good. What
is needed for dramatic change is an accumulation of acts, adding, adding to, adding more, continuing. We know that it does not take “everyone on Earth” to bring justice and peace, but only a small, determined group who will not give up during the first, second, or hundredth gale. One of the most calming and powerful actions you can do to intervene in a stormy world is to stand up and show your soul. Soul on deck shines like gold in dark times. The light of the soul throws sparks, can send up flares, builds signal fires, causes proper matters to catch fire. To display the lantern of soul in shadowy times like these – to be fierce and to show mercy toward others, both, are acts of immense bravery and greatest necessity. Struggling souls catch light from other souls who are fully lit and willing to show it. If you would help to calm the tumult, this is one of the strongest things you can do. There will always be times when you feel discouraged. I too have felt despair many times in my life, but I do not keep a chair for it; I will not entertain it. It is not allowed to eat from my plate. The reason is this: In my uttermost bones I know something, as do you. It is that there can be no despair when you remember why you came to Earth, who you serve, and who sent you here. The good words we say and the good deeds we do are not ours: They are the words and deeds of the One who brought us here. In that spirit, I hope you will write this on your wall:
When a great ship is in harbor and moored, it is safe, there can be no doubt. But that is not what great ships are built for. This comes with much love and a prayer that you remember who you came from, and why you came to this beautiful, needful Earth.

–Clarissa P. Estés

We have come to be danced
not the pretty dance
not the pretty pretty, pick me, pick me dance
but the claw our way back into the belly
of the sacred, sensual animal dance
the unhinged, unplugged, cat is out of its box dance
the holding the precious moment in the palms
of our hands and feet dance

We have come to be danced
not the jiffy booby, shake your booty for him dance
but the wring the sadness from our skin dance
the blow the chip off our shoulder dance
the slap the apology from our posture dance

We have come to be danced
not the monkey see, monkey do dance
one, two dance like you
one two three, dance like me dance
but the grave robber, tomb stalker
tearing scabs & scars open dance
the rub the rhythm raw against our souls dance

WE have come to be danced
not the nice invisible, self conscious shuffle
but the matted hair flying, voodoo mama
shaman shakin’ ancient bones dance
the strip us from our casings, return our wings
sharpen our claws & tongues dance
the shed dead cells and slip into
the luminous skin of love dance

We have come to be danced
not the hold our breath and wallow in the shallow end of the floor dance
but the meeting of the trinity: the body, breath & beat dance
the shout hallelujah from the top of our thighs dance
the mother may I?
yes you may take 10 giant leaps dance
the Olly Olly Oxen Free Free Free dance
the everyone can come to our heaven dance

We have come to be danced
where the kingdom’s collide
in the cathedral of flesh
to burn back into the light
to unravel, to play, to fly, to pray
to root in skin sanctuary
We have come to be danced
WE HAVE COME

Author: Jewel Mathieson

This comes from Father Richard Rohr’s blog and shares the practice of Lectio Divina.

NOTE: If you are triggered by the words “Christ” or “Christian” feel empowered to substitute any name for the Divine and any practice of Spirituality as you try this profound practice. For instance, you might change it to say, “Any mature mystical seeker sees the Divine in everything and everyone else.”

Practice: Lectio Divina

Lectio divina (Latin for sacred reading) is a contemplative way of reading, praying, and taking a long, loving look at Scripture or some other text. In lectio divina, God teaches us to listen for and seek God’s presence in silence. The text for this lectio practice is from my book The Universal Christ:

“A mature Christian sees Christ in everything and everyone else.” [1]

With the first reading, allow yourself to settle in to the exercise and familiarize yourself with the words. Read the text out loud, very slowly and clearly. Pause for a breath or two before moving on.

For the second reading, listen from a centered heart space and notice any word or phrase that stands out to you.

After a few moments of silence, read the text a third time, reflecting on how this word or phrase is connected to your current life experience. Take a minute to linger over this word or phrase, to focus on it until it engages your body, your heart, your awareness of the physical [and unseen] world around you.

You may want to speak a response aloud or write something in your journal.

For the final reading, respond with a prayer or expression of what you have experienced, inviting the infinite wisdom of God to support you in places of unknowing, confusion, desire, or hope.
Leading in with the quotation below, practice a contemplative sit. You may wish to set a timer or digital prayer bell for 5, 10, or 20 minutes, so that you know when to finish.

Seat yourself in a quiet area. Once you are settled, read the passage aloud again:

“A mature Christian sees Christ in everything and everyone else.”

Notice any tightness in your shoulders and neck and allow any tension in your muscles to relax.

Allow your back to rest in an aligned, neutral position.

Ground yourself and allow your breathing to settle. Then read the following aloud:

I am not trying to “achieve” anything. (Pause) There are no goals. (Pause) I am simply becoming aware of this moment. (Pause) Becoming aware of my presence in this moment. (Pause) As I notice any distractions, thoughts, judgments, decisions, ideas that cross my mind, I let them go for now (Pause), focusing instead on my moment-by-moment experience of being present to What Is. (Pause) God’s Presence. (Pause) The Larger Field. (Pause) En Cristo. (Pause)

Ring a prayer bell to indicate that the contemplative sit has begun.

[1] Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ: How a Forgotten Reality Can Change Everything We See, Hope For, and Believe (Convergent: 2019), 33.

Adapted from Richard Rohr, The Universal Christ: Companion Guide for Groups (CAC Publishing: 2019), 23–24, 25, 172.

One of the blogs I follow is Daily Meditations with Matthew Fox. They are often quite profound, timely and thought-provoking. I particularly resonated with this one from a few days ago because of my deep love for Sufi poet Hafiz.

This posting speaks of the creativity and erotic embodiment of Hafiz’ poetry and art. This is one excerpt of Hafiz poetry from the blog:

All the talents of God are within you.
How could this be otherwise
When your soul
derived from His genes!
I love that expression,
”All the talents of God are within you.”
Sometimes Hafiz cannot help but applaud
Certain words that rise from my depths
Like the scent of a lover’s body.

Please enjoy:

Sufi Mystic Hafiz on Art and Creativity

Our Seattle Peace Chorus in partnership with the Courage Ensemble were deeply honored to create this beautiful, timely and inspiring virtual gospel music. Please enjoy!

Enjoy this moving, harmonious Christian blessing in Amharic and English:

Our dear friend Quan Yin read this today during her online Sufi Class. She thought it was by Mary Oliver (and it has that flavor!) but in fact it is by Judith Hill.

Wage Peace

By Judyth Hill*

Wage peace with your breath.
Breathe in firemen and rubble,
breathe out whole buildings
and flocks of redwing blackbirds.

Breathe in terrorists and breathe out sleeping children
and freshly mown fields.
Breathe in confusion and breathe out maple trees.
Breathe in the fallen
and breathe out lifelong friendships intact.

Wage peace with your listening:
hearing sirens, pray loud.
Remember your tools:
flower seeds, clothes pins, clean rivers.

Make soup.
Play music, learn the word for thank you in three languages.
Learn to knit, and make a hat.
Think of chaos as dancing raspberries,
imagine grief as the outbreath of beauty
or the gesture of fish.
Swim for the other side.
Wage peace.

Never has the world seemed so fresh and precious.
have a cup of tea and rejoice.
Act as if armistice has already arrived.
Celebrate today.

* Sometimes mistakenly attributed to Mary Oliver