Tag Archives: spirituality

Shepherd

I have a three-week break and will head home for a couple of weeks on Monday, so will be offline for a couple of days. It is a longer sabbath than normal, but it will be a long day on Monday. The wanderer is going from thought country and will find his way home as William Stafford suggested in this poem. We are each shepherded home in some fashion, at some time.

According to the silence, winter has arrived—

a special kind of winter. I, its inventor,

watch it freeze in calendars and stare

out of clocks. I do not feel its cold.

Across a certain farm evening crows go flying,

intervals of the sky that I have seen before,

the bearing of a river. I advance, a wanderer

out of thought country, that serious quiet place,

Till according to the silence all the light is gone

and according to the dark all wanderers are home.

The Need to Win

Yesterday, I was writing and getting ready for class this morning. I pulled The Promise of Paradox by Parker Palmer off the shelf and looked for a reference. When I opened the book, it was to the page with this poem on it. When I focus on the need to win, as Chuang Tzu suggested, I am drained of power and divided against myself. The way to victory is to let go of the chase for victory and the avoidance of defeat.

We talked about the binary world we live in. Winning and losing are part of this binary. They sit at extremes and point in opposite directions. When I let go of and let myself enter the between space, I find my way better.

Take care and enjoy Sabbath.

When an archer is shooting for nothing

He has all the skill.

If he shoots for a brass buckle

He is already nervous.

If he shoots for a prize of gold

He goes blind

Or sees two targets—

He is out of his mind!

His skill has not changed. But the prize

Divides him. He cares.

He thinks more of winning

Than of shooting—

And the need to win

Drains him of power.

The Sunset

There is an interdependence I often lose track of in life when I get busy. It was nice to get away from the reading and writing for a few days. Black Elk, a holy man of the Oglala Lakota, said these words many years ago and they resonate with me today.

I recognize that interconnectedness when I allow myself to find a higher vantage point. My daily life, surrounded with by busyness, focuses me on the particulars. The spiritual vantage point, which elevates me, allows me to see sometimes the fuller circle.

Then I was standing on the highest mountain of them all,

And round beneath me was the whole hoop of the world

And while I stood there I saw more than I can tell

And I understood more than I saw

For I was seeing in the sacred manner the shape of all things of the spirit!

And I saw that the sacred hoop of my people was one of many hoops that make one circle, wide as daylight and starlight,

And in the center grew one mighty flowering tree.

The Week End

I was sitting in the library this afternoon and this began to form first in my head then on the screen. Usually, there is an intermediate phase and I jot something down. This was more spontaneous than normal and I think it is a bit rough around the edges, but I liked it when I re-read it.

The week end–

Sabbath arrives;

I disconnect–

I find new rhythm;

Here, I am soul full–

Here, my soul retrieves me.

It’s a mystery–

Reveals undefinable spaciousness;

Sans mots–

Without sound, it rescues me;

Yet, I hear its voice–

It offers refuge;

It guides me home.

Tilicho Lake

I used to ice fish. I went with others and would catch a few, usually more than others. Once I caught my fill, I lay on the ice and with my head covered watch fish swim past. Different fish move at different paces. Northern pike ease past the hole and whitefish move much quickly. There was never certainty. I did not know if I was going to catch fish and see fish. Some lakes were too deep, but occasionally a fish would come up the hole and catch a breath of air.

I used to feel like I could leave everything behind and just be. It is much like when Kathy and I hike in the mountains. There is a being that does not count on any certainty. It just is. David Whyte wrote this poem. I think the prayer of rough love is just being there, in the moment, and ready for what comes. There is a beauty in that and I think a fearlessness I need to cultivate.

In this high place

it is as simple as this,

Leave everything you know behind.

Step toward the cold surface,

say the old prayer of rough love

and open both arms.

Those who come with empty hands

will stare into the lake astonished,

there, in the cold light

reflecting pure snow,

the true shape of your own face.

Coming Out

I spent a good part of the day reading Taoist material, namely the Chuang-Tzu. Eastern philosophy and its teaching are mostly about being rather doing. It is about being mindful, attentive, and being part of the larger whole and not outside. A quote I came across was “People cannot use flowing water for a mirror; they use still water for a mirror.”

Mark Nepo captured the need to be and allow ourselves to become one with the world in this poem. In unity, we find wholeness and come out in the world.

While there is much to do

we are not here to do.

Under the want to problem-solve

is the need to being solve.

Often, with full being

the problem goes away.

The seed being-solves its

darkness by blossoming.

The hear being-solves its loneliness

by loving whatever it meets.

The tea becoming-solves the water

by becoming tea.

Modern Life and Activism

Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, shared this many years ago. It resonates even more in 2013 as we find ourselves entrenched in busy lives and struggle to find our way out of the activism and overwork. He suggested it is a form of violence on ourselves that does not let us find restful moments. The more inner peace we have the more we can share it with others. We host ourselves first and others feel invited into the banquet that results.

“There is a pervasive form of contemporary violence … [and that is] activism and overwork. 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.

The frenzy of our activism neutralizes our work for peace. It destroys our own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of our own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom which makes work [and life] fruitful.”

The Wild Geese

Wendell Berry is a great poet and writer. Several contributors to one of the texts we use in Eco-Ethics , Rethinking Nature, refer to his thinking. I call it deep thinking and takes us to another level of consciousness where there is an awareness that we are part of something much bigger.

I read Wendell Berry’s work and enjoy it immensely. He does not suggest I think like he does or live like he does in a low-tech world. What he proposes is I take time and think more deeply. I read somewhere that Berry, when he was much younger during the 1960’s was asked to write an anti-Vietnam War poem. He responded that he would not. The person asking was surprised as they had always believed he was opposed to the Vietnam War. He responded by saying he was not opposed to that particular war, just war in general. He wrote an anti-war poem with no reference to Vietnam. When I take time and engage in thinking at this level, I come to a different level of awareness than I usually do. It does not mean that I would things differently than I currently do. I become aware of the values I hold and act accordingly. Obviously, it is tricky. What if my values sanction war? What if my values sanction a view that nature is for human consumption? I think what Berry and others get is when we go deeper and look inside we see that we live in the world and not outside it as spectators.

When I read a poem like The Wild Geese, I am struck by the message of the last line: “What we need is here.” It likely always was. I need to open the persimmon seed to find the tree which is not separate from the seed. I am not separate from daily life or the world. I am in it. I need to go deeper to find it, recognize it, and cherish it.

Horseback on Sunday morning,

harvest over, we taste persimmon

and wild grape, sharp sweet

of summer’s end. In time’s maze

over fall fields, we name names

that went west from here, names

that rest on graves. We open

a persimmon seed

to find the tree that stands in promise,

pale, in the seed’s marrow.

Geese appear high over us,

pass, and the sky closes. Abandon,

as in love or sleep, holds

them in their way, clear,

in the ancient faith: what we need

is here. And we pray, no

for the new earth or heaven, but to be

quiet in the heart, and in eye

clear. What we need is here.

Turning Point

We tend to live isolated worlds and the boundaries are often rigid rather than permeable. We come in contact with many and absorb something from each. Life is a relational experience whether the relationship is with our self, another person, another being, the Cosmos. It begins inside and emerges. It is blending of all into one that makes us human and allows us to be a part of the macrocosm. We only need to turn to those relationships. Rainer Maria Rilke wrote this beautiful poem about turning points and the need to look inward.

For there is a boundary to looking.

And the world that is looked at so deeply

wants to flourish in love.

Work of the eyes is done, now

go and do the heart-work

on all the images imprisoned in you; for you

overpowered them: but even now you don’t know them.

Learn inner man, to look on your inner woman,

the one attained from a thousand

natures, the merely attained but

not yet beloved form.

Life Is a Prayer

I keep a daily journal and. As I wrote yesterday, this kept surfacing. I jotted the ideas down on Sticky Notes and let them percolate for the day. This is what dripped from the coffee pot.

Life is a prayer;

A mystery

It holds answers

And unshakeable questions.

In the oneness;

Alchemy loosens–

It transforms

In that mystery.

Prayer is listening;

It is an ordinary passage of time

It is the extraordinary voyage of life

Unpretentious, fully lived quest.