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Tag Archives: sabbath

Fishing in the Keep of Silence

I crave a certain quiet and solitude each week. Linda Gregg wrote this remarkable poem about God taking a break as well. I am glad to hear that God is enjoys poetry. I suspect God takes a sabbath to renew the poetic and artistic energies required for the continued unfolding of the universe and for it to go ahead beautifully. In the silence, we fish for the wisdom that keeps our lives unfolding and proceeding beautifully.

There is a hush now while the hills rise up

and God is going to sleep. He trusts the ship

of Heaven to take over and proceed beautifully

as he lies dreaming in the lap of the world.

He knows the owls will guard the sweetness

of the soul in their massive keep of silence,

looking out with eyes open or closed over

the length of Tomales Bay that the herons

conform to, whitely broad in flight, white

and slim in standing. God, who thinks about

poetry all the time, breathes happily as He

repeats to Himself: There are fish in the net,

lots of fish this time in the net of the heart.

Reach into the Heart

I arrive at the end of another busy, fruitful week. I begin the digital sabbath and spend time looking in, reading quietly, writing, and reflect on what is revealed. What is my heart’s purpose?

I gently reach into my heart,

A space not easily entered–

It resists busyness–

Asks for something different.

Here, at heart’s door

I listen carefully,

Patiently,

Then, a faint whisper.

Tenderly emerges…

Here, in delicate quietness;

Here, in exquisite solitude;

Here, in rich frailty;

Here, in soft strength

But, only when I listen

My inner teacher speaks.

What do I hear?

I am uncertain–

It is the soul that speaks

It speaks differently–

Not in human terms–

In spiritual terms.

Wisdom discerned…

Revealed slowly…

In that patience and calmness…

Life animated…

This way

Life’s fruit borne.

A Path for Warriors

I commented I finished Margaret Wheatley‘s book, So Far From Home. She concluded with a beautiful poem. It reminded how importance quiet and mindful moments are. I was less rushed these last couple of days and it was like a digital sabbath.

Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, wrote: “The rush and pressure of modern life are a form, perhaps the most common form, of its innate violence. To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence. More than that, it is cooperation in violence. The frenzy of the activist…destroys his own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of his own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work fruitful.”

My mother used to teach us about being Soldiers of Christ. We walk in the “same steps as Christ” (2 Corinthians 12:18, 1 Peter 2:21). We “[pray] always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit” (Ephesians 6:18), and “open your mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel” (Ephesians 6:19). Soldiers, in this context, seek peace from within and quiet the mind so their actions and words parallel each other.

We are grateful to discover our right work and happy to be engaged in it.

We embody values and practices that offer us meaningful lives now.

We let go of needing to impact the future.

We refrain from adding to the aggression, fear and confusion of this time.

We welcome every opportunity to practice our skills of compassion and insight, even very challenging ones.

We resist seeking the illusory comfort of certainty and stability.

We delight when our work achieves good results yet let go of needing others to adopt our successes.

We know that all problems have complex causes. We do not place blame on any one person or cause, including ourselves and colleagues.

 We are vigilant with our relationships, mindful to counteract the polarizing dynamics of this time.

Our actions embody our confidence that humans can get through anything as long as we’re together.

We stay present to the world as it is with open minds and hearts, knowing this nourishes our gentleness, decency and bravery.

We care for ourselves as tenderly as we care for others, taking time for rest, reflection and renewal.

We are richly blessed with moments of delight, humor, grace and joy.

We are grateful for these.

Stone

I spent today catching up. Most of it was digital. It is interesting how much email built up, but I was productive today. This poem by Charles Simic spoke to me. Children wonder and hold the world in awe. Adults lose track of the beauty of mystery. I am not sure what next week holds. Perhaps, I will write poetry. Although I relied on the words of others, noted that many of these poets were new to me and that was transformative. I spent time wisely.

Go inside a stone
That would be my way.
Let somebody else become a dove
Or gnash with a tiger’s tooth.
I am happy to be a stone.
From the outside the stone is a riddle:
No one knows how to answer it.
Yet within, it must be cool and quiet
Even though a cow steps on it full weight,
Even though a child throws it in a river;
The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.
I have seen sparks fly out
When two stones are rubbed,
So perhaps it is not dark inside after all;
Perhaps there is a moon shining
From somewhere, as though behind a hill—
Just enough light to make out
The strange writings, the star-charts
On the inner walls.

A Stranger’s Voice

When Monday rolls around and I spent Sunday disconnected, I find things quite loud and hectic. I even find my voice loud and my mind hurried and harried, but I do find I am increasingly able to recognize this is the case in that moment.

I heard a voice–

At once, both

Familiar yet unfamiliar.

This voice–

Somehow too loud

Intruded upon the day.

Tried to lean in

Attempted to recognize

Where had I heard this stranger?

Suddenly,

Without warning

I recognized it!

It was mine–

Out of place

After a spacious silence.

End of Week

Turn the soil

Plant the seeds

Offer precious food

Sustaining liquid

Nourish the spirit

 A soul grows,

Buoyed–

A light shines

Reveals the path

With each step taken.

Breathe

Barely audible

Life giving

End of week arrives

I wait quietly,

I pause patiently,

I till tenderly,

Turn the soil

Plant the seeds

Take care.

A Time of Rest

Kathy took this picture last weekend. They finished a day cleaning the farmhouse and it is livable. The sun, after a dreary day, appeared and the sky was awash with golden rays. I feel this way in the classroom. I love what I do. I am whole and find voice. I am a learner, a teacher, and the two are inseparable, but I remind my self to be mindful and give thanks.

Fleetingly framed

Trees against golden skyline

Nature paints day’s end.

Glorious moment

Sky awash with golden light

I am fulfilled.

Focus

I keep blurry pictures. They remind me life is not always in sharp focus and there are times to step back, pause, and reflect.

The spirit wearies

A voice from within speaks

Seeks reflective time.

Quietly turn inward

Listen to an inner voice

Seek counsel and wisdom.

Pay homage and celebrate

While pain reveals character

New paths carved into wilderness.

Cherish each moment’s gift

Arrival and departure

Grateful for life.

On the Edge

Kathy and I are back on the road this morning. It will be Monday before I post again. I disconnect to reconnect. I feel on the edge at this time of the week and summer. I go back to work next Wednesday and, for the first time in my career, I am not looking forward to going back. I am on the edge and find faith in something other than me.

Each step

Brings me to the edge.

Uncertain balance

On the edge.

Instability dances with stability

Harsh with the gentle.

Quiet the self

Hear the soul’s gentle words.

A still space reveals wisdom

A spirit of Faith.

Look forward;

Look down.

Go forward

Accept hands proffered in similar Faith.

Fireweed

I am off for my Sabbath and perhaps an extra day. Kathy and I are going to British Columbia via Jasper National Park and Mount Robson Provincial Park. I suspect there will be some pictures forthcoming. My mother celebrates her 88th birthday and it is an important event each year. She is the last of her generation in our family.

Fireweed is a common plant which grows in temperate areas of North America. It is hardy and is often planted in areas which are disturbed i.e. fire or oil spills. I am using it to carry me into my Sabbath and help heal the spirit.

It’s common enough

Beside paths I traverse

Lights the path homeward.

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