Space

Years ago I was at a weekend retreat at Asilomar.

Wayne Muller spoke about his book Sabbath, about the importance of a day of rest.  He laughed because what the book encouraged he was unable to do because he used his day of rest to write the book.

I love it when there’s space to see what comes.  Yesterday, among other things, it was Rupert Spira who came my way.  I watched him on youtube and took in his message of love. We also enjoyed Chinese food for the Chinese New Year.  There was no plan, only reception, and in that, beauty and grace.

Many years ago, we bought what we called a dinosaur egg at an art show. It’s made of concrete and is huge. It’s graced our entry all these years holding a plant that has begun to overtake the house. Yesterday I removed the plant and lugged the egg outside. The entry is bare, open to space.

Dinosaur egg awaiting what now comes


Energy

Today begins the Year of the Rat, an industrious little fellow.  I meditated this morning feeling energy flow. I’ve cleaned out enough that I’ve saved what nourishes me, and let other pieces go.  Today is a pause to recollect, recollect the past.

For fifth and most of sixth grade, we lived seven miles outside Bettendorf, Iowa in a beautiful home that overlooked the Mississippi River.  There was an island in that part of the river so the water would freeze and we could ice skate over and be with trees. In summer, we swam off a dock and traveled in a boat my father built. We could water ski from the dock.  Next to our house was what I felt as a forest at the time. If I were to return, I’m sure it wouldn’t be the same but in those years of change, I could go there and be alone with birds, leaves, squirrels and trees.

Much of my life revolves around water and trees.  There, I feed, and now this morning the birds are beginning to wake.  And there’s that word wake. We each leave a wake as we move in our various ways.

Trees and animals, humans and insects, flowers and birds:

These are active images of the subtle energies that flow

from the stars throughout the universe. Meeting

and combining with each other and the elements of

the earth, they give rise to all living things.

– Hua Hu Ching

Love; Right; Truth

I woke this morning, embraced and bathing in Love.  Love is the only answer. It’s the fabric of the universe, the tissue that connects us, and there is enough.  Love is abundant, like life.

When I had my first child, I couldn’t imagine such love, and then, came the second, and there was an expansion of that love, a deeper immersion, a bath.  Love expands like the universe.

I watched Adam Schiff’s speech this morning.  “Right matters and truth matters. Otherwise we are lost.”

I don’t know why so many people are defending lies and corruption, but I’m expanding to trust that Love, Right, and Truth carry the day.

On Thursday, I walked home after taking my car to the garage to be checked. I like to cut over to the marsh on this bridge rather than walking on the road. I came to this sign.

Halt, Pause, Re-think

I back-tracked wondering why this sign right now. I think as a country we’re being asked to return to the values on which this country was founded, and yes, it was written by white men, but we have expanded to be more inclusive, and we need to keep moving forward with Love of the Truth and facts that demonstrate what’s right.

Looking Up
View from a different bridge

Flow and Letting Go

Today I’m reflecting on Gabrielle Roth and her five rhythms.   The five rhythms (in order) are Flowing, Staccato, Chaos, Lyrical and Stillness. The 5 Rhythms, when danced in sequence, are known as a “Wave.” A typical Wave takes about an hour to dance.

The fastest way to still the mind is to move the body.  My mind is active these days so clearly I need a little more movement, and yet, the rain and cold say “stay inside”.  

Today I intend to move a little more gracefully, receptively, and rhythmically through the wave of my day. 

Reflecting

Again, it’s dark and gray with rain.  This January offers stillness and reflective time.

I’ve been immersed in Tracy K. Smith’s memoir Ordinary Light.  The book ends with the passing/passage of her mother.  

Lately I’ve felt my mother close though she passed 15 years ago.  Perhaps it’s the birth of my grandchild, her great grandchild that connects the cords.

Tracy ends the book with a poem by Seamus Heaney from his book, The Haw Lantern.  The sonnet sequence called “Clearances” is an elegy for his mother.  It closes with this. 

 

I thought of walking round and round a space

Utterly empty, utterly a source

Where the decked chestnut tree had lost its place

In our front hedge above the wallflowers.

The white chips jumped and jumped and skited high.

I heard the hatchet’s differentiated

Accurate cut, the crack, the sigh

And collapse of what luxuriated 

Through the shocked tips and wreckage of it all.

Deep-planted and long gone, my coeval

Chestnut from a jam jar in a hole,

Its heft and hush become a bright nowhere,

A soul ramifying and forever

Silent, beyond silence listened for 

Compassion

A friend sent me this story a few days ago and today I open it.  It’s “In the Belly of the Whale” by Patricia Hampl, perfect for this day.

I offer a few lessons from it to entice you in though they may seem stark without the story which is the point of stories.  We’re struck inside, touched and entertained as we’re changed.

The lesson begins to come home: at the heart of the refusal of mercy is not cruelty – but fear.

Cruelty belongs, then, to fear, and compassion belongs to justice. It is necessary to learn these relationships, to trace the integuments that bind us to our actions. 

But that’s the point: compassion is not a personal form of enlightened social welfare for everybody else. It is reality, it is how things fit together in the universe. To lack compassion is not merely to lack a human quality – it is to not quite exist, to be missing an essential working part of reality.

Compassion is the acknowledgment of connection, the refusal to see the world as divided into distinct units which can do without each other. It is, literally, a “suffering together with” (com/with + pati/suffer). It is primal union.

And so Dr. King taught, and so today, we remember and stretch to embody his teachings even more as they expand with his death. You can read the story here, as you salivate to digest.

MLK Day!

It’s cold here, for us, and gray, a day to reflect on why this day is set aside to honor one man.

“It really boils down to this: that all life is interrelated. We are all caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied together into a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. We are made to live together because of the interrelated structure of reality… Before you finish eating breakfast in the morning, you’ve depended on more than half the world. This is the way our universe is structured, this is its interrelated quality. We aren’t going to have peace on Earth until we recognize the basic fact of the interrelated structure of all reality.“

– Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.