Category Archives: Sabbath

Reach into the Heart

Posted on April 6, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

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.

15 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, eloquent questions, inner teacher, Mindful Practice, Reach into the Heart, sabbath, spirituality, teacher as transformer, wisdom. Bookmark the permalink.

Creativity

Posted on March 30, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I am grateful for the comments I received. The link to the radio show is not working today. I made minor changes, but still did not get through. I will work on this and see what I can do to correct the problem.

I believe the Internet is a place to build community, enhance conversations, and create relationships previously impossible. I think it requires a mindful approach, and serial single tasking to do this, but it is doable. There are creative spaces in any community that makes all this possible.

A pause,

A whisper,

A gentle voice,

In that gap–

Mindful response to stimulus.

The gap grows–

A mindfully tended space

Nourished and fed,

Attended, become aware

Sow with care.

Blossoms ready themselves–

Creativity appears at the door

Heartfelt listening

There senses merge into one

Receive that gentle lady.

She is a visitor–

Long awaited;

Not chased after–

In that spaciousness

There creativity wraps me in her arms.

10 Comments

Posted in Blogging, Community, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged blogging, community, creativity, Internet, Mindful Practice, mindfulness, poetry, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Journey

Posted on March 25, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I am not sure what my schedule is like for the rest of the afternoon, so I will post earlier than I normally do. I read quite a bit yesterday and one of the books I finished was by a friend, Deb E. Berg and is called Ja-Mya and the Journey. I taught two members of the Berg family and Deb was a founding member of our small school. Much of the underlying philosophy that led to this group of parents approaching educators with their idea of a different way of imagining a school and children’s learning is reflected in this book.

The book weaves story-telling reminiscent of classics such as The Chronicles of Narnia, Peter Pan, The Wizard of Oz, and many others. The two main characters, Teagen and Andrew, search for life’s meaning as two adolescents who embark on their summer vacation with their uncle. They search for their Heart’s Desire, explore deep and timeless questions adolescents ask, and enter a fourth dimension where time is not as we understand it. They witness two opposing worldviews: one of abundance and stewardship; the other of scarcity and depletion. They learn their greatest strengths are often their greatest weaknesses. The reader embarks on a journey with Teagen and Andrew as they learn about nature, connect to a new world through their imagination, and find wisdom. In a single afternoon, Andrew “fought a war, rode a dragon, wrote and performed a song while learning about my Heart’s desire.”

This book is about finding and integrating the contemporary with the traditional. It is about a real need to see legacy not through the eyes of adults, but through the eyes of children. What world do we choose to leave for them? What is our gift to them?

I leave you with the song Andrew wrote and performed at the end of the book:

Life begins, life ends,

Struggles come and go

What the Journey holds for each

Is something we cannot know.

Friends along the way,

Providing what we need

In companionship and wisdom

With varied type of deed.

One’s Heart’s Desire can only be found

When walking the road of life

No matter what we find it is

The awareness will bring less strife.

Emotion also finds its place

Along the Journey’s way

With welcoming and firm embrace

Wisdom will guide today.

Value, meaning, the hope of life

Shows in the time we take

To listen to a kinder voice

Love’s words to never forsake.

Life begins, life ends,

Struggles come and go

What the Journey holds for each

Is something we cannot know.

I would love to use this book in the form of a novel study or a reading project with junior high students.

22 Comments

Posted in Community, Education, Lesson Plans, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath, Social Justice and tagged community, creativity, Deb E. Berg, education, eloquent questions, Ja-Mya and the Journey, literature, Mindful Practice, poetry, stewardship, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

Fluent

Posted on March 24, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

Kathy and I made it to Phoenix, but it was quite a day. The flight was delayed for four hours due to mechanical problems. Considering the alternative, I am grateful, but it made for an incredibly long day including a time change. I leave you with a short, poignant John O’Donohue poem which echoes Life is a River.

I would love to live

Like a river flows,

Carried by the surprise

Of its own unfolding.

It was a day full of surprise. I look forward to my weekly digital sabbatical and the unfolding that I will witness.

21 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Sabbath, Synchronicity and tagged creativity, Fluent, John O'Donohue, Life is a River, Mindful Practice, poetry, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

The Opening of Eyes

Posted on March 16, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I arrive at the end of another week. It was a quiet week in many ways. Next week includes parent-teacher interviews and will be more hectic. When I reflected, I thought of the Marcel Proust quote: “The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes.” I need the quiet and the solitude which allows me to achieve one glimpse at a time.

I found my way to this David Whyte poem which proposed a similar message. The poet echoed Proust in the second stanza. As I open my eyes, my heart and mind open in astonishment as the wonder of silence finds a new world that was always there, a paradox.

That day I saw beneath dark clouds
the passing light over the water
and I heard the voice of the world speak out,
I knew then, as I had before
life is no passing memory of what has been
nor the remaining pages in a great book
waiting to be read.

It is the opening of eyes long closed.
It is the vision of far off things
seen for the silence they hold.
It is the heart after years
of secret conversing
speaking out loud in the clear air.

It is Moses in the desert
fallen to his knees before the lit bush.
It is the man throwing away his shoes
as if to enter heaven
and finding himself astonished,
opened at last,
fallen in love with solid ground.

21 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, David Whyte, Marcel Proust, Mindful Practice, paradox, poetry, teacher as transformer, The Opening of Eyes. Bookmark the permalink.

Of Mere Being

Posted on March 10, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

Wallace Stevens wrote this beautiful reminder that we each have work to do. I recall something Jon Kabat-Zinn said: “Find a Job with a capital J. Stop doing someone else’s work. Find work that makes you complete.” I paraphrase here. It is easier to be fully present as fulfilled persons.

Thomas Merton and Parker Palmer wrote about the common roots of voice and vocation. I find meaning and completion in the work I do. Somehow, I make the world a better place. As I find my voice, my being made whole and any holes in that being filled. I understand the meaning of my life’s song with perhaps no clear meaning to anyone else.

The palm at the end of the mind,
Beyond the last thought, rises
In the bronze distance.

A gold-feathered bird
Sings in the palm, without human meaning,
Without human feeling, a foreign song.

You know then that it is not the reason
That makes us happy or unhappy.
The bird sings. Its feathers shine.

The palm stands on the edge of space.
The wind moves slowly in the branches.
The bird’s fire-fangled feathers dangle down.

16 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath, Uncategorized and tagged creativity, Jon Kabat-Zinn, Mindful Practice, Of Mere Being, Parker Palmer, poetry, Thomas Merton, vocation, Wallace Stevens. Bookmark the permalink.

Stillness, Silence, Insight, Clarity

Posted on February 24, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I am reading Buddha’s Brain which summarizes the neuroscience about the benefits of meditation and solitude. The authors, Rick Hanson and Richard Mendius, intertwined science and poetry from practitioners of contemplative practices.

A few weeks ago, I began to blog differently and blogged less each day plus plus continued to take a day away from the computer. I thought I would feel less connected, but I feel more connected. I might have more clarity when I blog as I move in and out of stillness and quiet. I leave you with this short and profound poem by Tenzin Priyadarshi from the above noted book.

If there is no stillness,

there is no silence.

If there is no silence,

there is no insight.

If there is no insight,

there is no clarity.

27 Comments

Posted in Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged blogging, clarity, insight, Mindful Practice, poetry, quiet, Richard Mendius, Rick Hanson, spirituality, stillness, teacher as transformer, Tenzin Priyadarshi. Bookmark the permalink.

Let Evening Come

Posted on February 16, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I am at the end of the week. It was good. Silver Birch Press invited me to submit a poem for publication and I sent End of the Week for an upcoming anthology. When I began to write poetry again a few months ago, it filled a creative and reflective void in my life. I did not expect the invitation, so I am grateful for the invitation and acceptance.

Jane Kenyon wrote this beautiful poem about the end of day. I think it speaks to the need for sabbath on a daily basis and at the end of the week. Last week, when I attended a presentation by Dr. Philip McCrae he used the term digital sabbath at one point. As I navigate this emergent digital landscape, I recognize the importance of taking time each day away from the computer. It made a difference this past week. In the silence, I find peace, wisdom, and love in the gap between each moment.

Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.

Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.

Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.

Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.

To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.

Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.

32 Comments

Posted in Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged creativity, End of the Week, Jane Kenyon, Let Evening Come, Mindful Practice, Phil McCrae, poetry, Silver Birch Press, spirituality, teacher as transformer. Bookmark the permalink.

A Path for Warriors

Posted on February 9, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

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.

39 Comments

Posted in Leadership, Mindful Life, Poetry, Reflective Moments, Sabbath and tagged human-rights, inner wisdom, leadership, Margaret Wheatley, Mindful Practice, poetry, sabbath, So Far From Home, soldiers of christ, spirituality, teacher as transformer, Thomas Merton. Bookmark the permalink.

A Dream of Warriors

Posted on February 3, 2013 by ivonprefontaine

I enjoy reading Thich Nhat Hanh. Presently, I am reading Margaret Wheatley’s new book: So Far From Home. Margaret Wheatley brought shared this by the Zen monk. The poem and book are gentle reminders to pause, reorient ourselves in the present, and find strength and courage to continue the journey. It does not end.

The road goes on and we only walk one step at a time, one moment at a time, and each step moves us into an unknown future. It is good to rest and make each step mindful. We live in the present moment, find courage, and discover strength to carry on. It is in this moment, this space, we are at home, because when we are mindful we can nowhere else.

“They were exhausted. They had been traveling longer than they could remember. Their journey had begun with energy and enthusiasm, but that too they could no longer recall. They had lost many companions along the way—some had turned back, some had refused to go on, some had died of weariness. They all had suffered greatly.

They came to a narrow bridge that spanned a great river running swift and fast. On the far shore they could see what they had dreamed of during all these years of hardship—gentle green valleys and peaceful lakes reflecting clear blue sky. They stood there astonished to realize that what they had struggled so long for was suddenly here.

They began walking across the bridge with joyful steps. Midway across, they were stopped by children who had come to meet them. Tears overcame them for their own children left behind long ago. The children began to speak: “You cannot enter our land. You must go back. You will need to repeat your struggles. You must go back and do it all again.

The warriors stood there quietly. They gazed longingly at the pleasant pastures. They beheld the bright faces of the children. Tenderly, they bent down and kissed their cheeks. Then they stood up and spoke: “We are not afraid.” And they went back to begin again their journey.”