Category: Main blog

It’s okay to be broken. It’s okay to not be where you thought you’d be right now, where you want to be. Truth is, nobody else is either, or at least most of us aren’t. It’s okay to be flawed. It’s okay to have blemishes. It’s okay to be beautifully imperfect. It’s okay to be human. The weavers always wove a mistake into their rugs to remind themselves only Creator is perfect. We are here to be refined, but to need refinement means first you are rough. Unpolished stone. Corners and bumps and cracks. It’s okay to cry. It’s okay to acknowledge the pain the world has put you through. It’s okay to sit in the weight of it all and be “incapacitated.” Because within that brokenness is the stillness we need to honor our emotions. After they are truly and deeply honored, then they can be released and we can MOVE on. Thus stillness is sometimes the fastest pathway to true movement. Brokenness the fastest pathway to reassemblage and becoming whole. Don’t let the glitter and gloss fool you. When the lights go out and the night is quiet, we all fight our demons. We all struggle up our mountains. The trick is to see the beauty in the struggle, the beauty of our journey, however imperfect it can and will be. Stepping to the side of the path to rest does not mean you are giving up, it just means you are resting before you begin again. They are not asking us to be perfect. They are just asking us to try.

~ Lyla June

These quotes and practices from Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations, are beautiful and germane to all of our hopes for change and provide the tools we need to keep working toward a more sane and equitable world.

“If you listen to the Spirit, you will be drawn toward an opportunity to serve. At first, the thought will frighten or repel you. But when you let the Spirit guide you, it will be a source of great joy—one of the richest blessings of your life.”
—Brian McLaren

“The contemplative life is not, and cannot be, a mere withdrawal, a pure negation, a turning of one’s back on the world with its sufferings, its crises, its confusions, and its errors.”
—Thomas Merton

Practice GRACE

Buddhist teacher Joan Halifax describes a method of collaborative discernment with, and on behalf of, others. 
 
GRACE [is] an active contemplative practice. . . . GRACE is a mnemonic that stands for: Gather attention. Recall our intention. Attune to self and then other. Consider what will serve. Engage and end. . . . 

Gather Attention: The G in GRACE is a reminder for us to pause and give ourselves time to get grounded. On the inhale, we gather our attention. On the exhale, we drop our attention into the body, sensing into a place of stability in the body. . . . 

Recall Intention: The R of GRACE is recalling intention. We recall our commitment to act with integrity and respect the integrity of those whom we encounter. We remember that our intention is to serve others and to open our heart to the world. . . . 

Attune to Self and Other: The A of GRACE refers to the process of attunement. . . . In the self-attunement process, we bring attention to our physical sensations, emotions, and thoughts—all of which can shape our attitudes and behavior toward others. . . . From this base of self-attunement, we attune to others, sensing without judgment into their experience . . . [and] engage our capacity for empathy. . . .  

Consider What Will Serve is the C of GRACE. . . . . We ask ourselves, What is the wise and compassionate path here? What is an appropriate response? We are present for the other as we sense into what might serve them, and we let insights arise, noticing what the other might be offering in this moment. . . . 

Engage and End: The first phase of the E in GRACE is to ethically engage and act, if appropriate. Compassionate Action emerges from the field we have created of openness, connection, and discernment. 

Experience a version of this practice through video and sound.   

Joan Halifax, Standing at the Edge: Finding Freedom Where Fear and Courage Meet (New York: Flatiron Books, 2018), 241–242, 243. 

Grow poetry in the debris left behind by rage.

Plant so there is enough for everyone to eat.

Make sure there is room for everyone at the table.

Let all of us inhabit the story, in peace.

~ Joy Harjo

Dear Amina recently posted this on her blog Love, Harmony & Beauty #99. It is a compelling statement from John O’ Donohue that reminded me of Kim Stanley Robinson’s quote I posted earlier, “…pessimism is a dereliction of duty…”

We can never be reminded enough of how important it is to remember our power and practices that allow us to continue our critical social and earth justice work in these profound and challenging times.

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The world is not decided by action alone. It is decided more by consciousness and spirit; they are the secret sources of all action and behaviour.

The spirit of a time is an incredibly subtle, yet hugely powerful force. And it is comprised of the mentality and spirit of all individuals together.

Therefore, the way you look at things is not simply a private matter. Your outlook actually and concretely affects what goes on.

When you give in to helplessness, you collude with despair and add to it.

When you take back your power and choose to see the possibilities for healing and transformation, your creativity awakens and flows to become an active force of renewal and encouragement in the world.

In this way, even in your own hidden life, you can become a powerful agent of transformation.

–          John O’Donohue

From Fr. Richard Rohr’s Daily Meditations

Present Over Perfect

“And now that you don’t have to be perfect, you can be good.” —John Steinbeck, East of Eden

After spending many years seeking perfection, popular author Shauna Niequist discovered the freedom and love that can be experienced by being present to life as it is. She writes about the difference between a false perfection and a lived presence: 

Let’s talk for a minute about perfect. . . . Perfect is brittle and unyielding, plastic, distant, more image than flesh. Perfect calls to mind stiffness, silicone, an aggressive and unimaginative relentlessness. Perfect and the hunt for it will ruin our lives—that’s for certain.  

I’ve missed so much of my actual, human, beautiful, not-beautiful life trying to force things into perfect. But these days I’m coming to see that perfect is safe, controlled, managed. I’m finding myself drawn to mess, to darkness, to things that are loved to the point of shabbiness, or just wildly imperfect in their own gorgeous way. . . .  

And so, instead: present. If perfect is plastic, present is rich, loamy soil. . . . 

Present is living with your feet firmly grounded in reality, pale and uncertain as it may seem. Present is choosing to believe that your own life is worth investing deeply in, instead of waiting for some rare miracle or fairy tale. Present means we understand that the here and now is sacred, sacramental, threaded through with divinity even in its plainness. Especially in its plainness.  

Present over perfect living is real over image, connecting over comparing, meaning over mania, depth over artifice. Present over perfect living is the risky and revolutionary belief that the world God has created is beautiful and valuable on its own terms, and that it doesn’t need to be zhuzzed up and fancy in order to be wonderful.

Sink deeply into this world as it stands. Breathe in the smell of rain and the scuff of leaves as they scrape across driveways on windy nights. This is where life is, not in some imaginary, photo-shopped dreamland. Here. Now. You, just as you are. Me, just as I am. This world, just as it is. This is the good stuff. This is the best stuff there is. Perfect has nothing on truly, completely, wide-eyed, open-souled present

Shauna Niequest, Present over Perfect: Leaving behind Frantic for a Simpler, More Soulful Way of Living (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 2016), 129, 130.  

The wisdom of Thich Nhat Hahn – with gratitude to sister Tarana who posted this on FB

“Whenever we throw food in the compost, it can smell bad. Rotting organic matter smells especially badly. But it can also become rich compost for fertilizing the garden. The fragrant rose and the stinking garbage are two sides of the same existence. Without one, the other cannot be. Everything is in transformation. The rose that wilts after six days will become a part of the compost. After six months the compost is transformed into a rose.
In the garbage, I see a rose.
In the rose, I see the garbage.
Everything is in transformation.
Even permanence is impermanent.”
~Thich Nhat Hanh

(Gratitude to sister Amina who posted this on her blog earlier)

We think that if we just meditated enough or jogged enough or ate perfect food, everything would be perfect. But from the point of view of someone who is awake, that’s death. Seeking security or perfection, rejoicing in feeling confirmed and whole, self-contained and comfortable, is some kind of death. It doesn’t have any fresh air. There’s no room for something to come in and interrupt all that. We are killing the moment by controlling our experience. Doing this is setting ourselves up for failure, because sooner or later, we’re going to have an experience we can’t control: our house is going to burn down, someone we love is going to die, we’re going to find out we have cancer, a brick is going to fall out of the sky and hit us on the head, somebody’s going to spill tomato juice all over our white suit, or we’re going to arrive at our favorite restaurant and discover that no one ordered produce and seven hundred people are coming for lunch.

The trick is to keep exploring and not bail out, even when we find out that something is not what we thought. That’s what we’re going to discover again and again and again. Nothing is what we thought.

Things are always in transition, if we could only realize it. Nothing ever sums itself up in the way that we like to dream about. The off-center, in-between state is an ideal situation, a situation in which we don’t get caught and we can open our hearts and minds beyond limit. It’s a very tender, nonaggressive, open-ended state of affairs. To stay with that shakiness—to stay with a broken heart, with a rumbling stomach, with the feeling of hopelessness and wanting to get revenge—that is the path of true awakening. Sticking with that uncertainty, getting the knack of relaxing in the midst of chaos, learning not to panic—this is the spiritual path.

Things falling apart is a kind of testing and also a kind of healing. We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t really get solved. They come together and they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy. – Pema Chodron

This long interview is filled with gems but I especially want to lift up the following quote (italics mine):

“But the situation is such that in our culture, to say you’re optimistic is maybe not the right thing. But hope, optimism, this attitude is a necessary political stance to take, because we are in a position of privilege, and the situation can be saved. And given those two, it’s a dereliction of duty to be pessimistic, to be cynical. It’s just a chicken thing to do.

We need to be strong in a moment of crisis by saying, yes, it can be done. And if we’re in a race between bad catastrophe and some kind of beginning prosperity for all — when you’re in a race that intense, you don’t want to sit down on the ground and start crying. Oh, we’ve lost already. That would be a bad thing to do because you’re in a race.

You actually need to run as hard as you can. If you lose the race, well, that is a dystopian novel. And I don’t really want to go there. If we lose the race, we’re in terrible trouble, and we’ll be in emergency mode for years. But if we win the race, it’s a big win for the biosphere, for the other creatures, and for humanity. So it’s worth pretending to be optimistic, or using optimism as a club, and beating it with people. Yes, we can succeed. Bang, bang, bang.”

~ Kim Stanley Robinson

Full Transcript: Ezra Klein Interviews Kim Stanley Robinson https://nyti.ms/3aJvJUD

 In this video, Mirabai guides you in identifying something that is troubling your heart right now and laying your burden down at the feet of the divine mother as the Shekinah, the indwelling Feminine Presence.

I am honored and pleased to share (with permission) this poignant and beautiful parable, created by my friend Rev. Clovice A. Lewis, Jr.

The Merik

Once upon a time there was a huge inland lake. It was teeming with underwater plant life and a million varieties of fish. An entire civilization of people lived on the lake and depended on it for life. They lived on separate nationships of all kinds. They traded with each other. Sometimes they fought, absorbing the people from one boat into another. They made the captives work to rebuild the ships of the victors. Sometimes the captured workers eventually assimilated to the point of being virtually identical to the people who once oppressed them.

Most boats and ships on the lake were propelled by the wind. There were as many shapes of sails as there were sea craft. Everyone fished enough for their needs.

One day a group of people with big guns attacked another ship and seized it. They made its people live in the corners and captured others to build a large ship they called “Merik”. The attackers said, “Let us make a rule that this must always be the most opulent, fastest, most heavily armed, and most powerful ship on the lake. Let us make another rule that only our progeny can own and sail the Merik.” They built an engine to power the Merik that used fish and water as fuel. The byproducts of the engine were soot in the air and an oily film that polluted the water. But the few people who were the masters of the Merik lived in astonishing wealth and luxury. They kept the ship tall and narrow so it could slice through the water at a speed no others could match. The masters lived on top and built their living quarters above the workers they captured in ever higher layers. The Merik was not very seaworthy, but used the thrust from its powerful engines to keep it afloat. They also used their giant guns to blast other boats out of the water when they were threatened or angered.

Over time the workers on the Merik gained some power. They said “Let us reshape the Merik so that its luxury is shared, so it is fast but seaworthy, armed but friendly, and powerful but cooperative. Let us also make a rule to let everyone own and sail the Merik so that the lake can be preserved.” All of the people of the Merik made this pledge. They scaled back the polluting, inefficient engine and erected the largest, most beautiful and efficient sails. They also transformed the single-hulled Merik into three large and deep streamlined hulls joined by broad platforms so that everyone could enjoy the sun. The luxury appointments were spread out on the platforms – not vertically placed. The once conquered people were welcomed to participate in improving the design of the ship and sharing its responsibilities. The Merik shared its products and ideas with others on the lake. Trade blossomed. The old engines of the Merik were to be discarded and most of the large guns were to be dismantled because the lake was being polluted and the environment was becoming unsustainable.

More time passed. The lake became more polluted. Scientists warned that people needed to preserve the lake or everyone would die.

Instead of cooperating with each other some nations started to build large ships like the Merik. There was competition to see who could build the fastest, most luxurious, most powerful ships. Big and little wars broke out as nationships were absorbed for their resources. Their people were killed or forced into economic slavery to support the few wealthy people living at the tops of their narrow ships.

The progeny of the original makers of the Merik abandoned their pledges for fairness, cooperation, and preserving the lake for future generations because they were afraid of the future. They were afraid all the changes made in the ship and its ownership would make them unsafe. So, they insisted on reshaping the ship to the original specifications (they said “Make the Merik Great Again”). They discarded the sails and turned the old engines back on at full throttle. They pulled out their guns again to threaten everyone else and chopped away, without regard to designing a ship that would be sustainable for its crew and the lake it sailed upon.

The scientists were correct.

The end.

Clovice A. Lewis, Jr.