Yes. I have also found that so much power comes when I realize that there's a part of me - that I happen to call my brilliance - that is infinite, immutable, constant, permanent. Embodying this reality releases all trauma and changes everything to shalom, love, peace, joy, wellbeing, health, tranquility, equanimity, harmony, unity...
Such a reflection of most of our lives: conditioned to be something that we're not. The pain of letting go of the old identity, to allow room for the new (which is actually the old since it was forged before the beginning of time). :-) Thankfully, we're given a lifetime to realign with our majestic brilliance. Enjoy the journey!
Just yesterday, I was walking by the bay and found myself in awe of the magical stillness of the water, the pristine sky overhead with this one whimsical cloud in it, the two pelicans in the middle... It's so easy to walk past and focus on the phone conversation I was having. And when I give myself permission to bring my surroundings into the conversation, it's amazing how much more peace and wellbeing it instills in the conversation.
The line that moved my heart the most: "To help without thinking 'What's in it for me?' Is to be, for the helped one, vaster than the sea". Yes, there is a vastness of the sea that we most of the time don't measure. I LOVE that mystery, that unknown, that often never-known about service. Its impact often extends beyond what I can think or imagine. And that is part of the excitement and treasure of service "without thinking." :-)
Having been plagued my whole life with low self-worth and low self-esteem, I've struggled aligning with the stated definition of humility (one I prefer is Webster's: freedom from pride or arrogance). Over the years, I've developed my own definition: in my humility, I am most aligned with my spirit, my highest self. When I'm humble, there is nothing of the world that comes in the way of the expression of my spirit. I am being all that I'm meant to be in the world. And, ironically, this comes when I stop believing that there's something for me to do or have. With this definition, some of us find humility by coming down for our self-grandissement; others by rising up from our self-effacement.
What a precious word! And one I've embraced without knowing its existence. Deep intentionality in my walk, discerning every step for stronger alignment with my brilliance (i.e., my essence, my spirit, my highest self) while having let go where this take me. It's a funky, counterintuitive balance as my rational, logical mind wants to take ownership and make "it" happen. Just today, I had an opportunity show up that I would have not even considered previously because it doesn't look like it "should"; it even, on the surface, looks like a distraction from my current intentions. And yet, that said alignement is inviting me to consider it. It may just open a door into a radiant, abundance, connected and aligned next-place-to-be. I release it all to God.
"to challenge the sclerosis and cleanse the arteries of religion" To grow fully, many trees need pruning. It's not that the cut branches are bad or wrong; it's that their season has passed. And by pruning them, the tree grows back fuller and more fruitful. Tis the season of pruning. We tend to resist the pruning due to the pain of the cut and of letting go, losing sight of the fruitfulness it will enable. I do my best to keep my eyes on the fruit I will have the privilege to become.
When I thought that meaning was something that I had to go find, there was a destination to reach. When I realized that meaning was something that has always been inside me and I was invited to become, I realized that its journey is eternal. While the initial realization of this was a disappointment, it quickly turned into the exhilaration of the discovery of my daily becoming. Today, every day offers a new revealation into this constant becoming.
It is in the depth of emptiness that we connect to the fullness of all. Most of us are so afraid of letting go of "stuff" - however we define it - and fall into emptiness that we don't receive its gift of eternity, infinity and completeness. It is in the depth of emptiness that these lie.
There is no waiting when each moment is lived in full presence. Have it be the few minutes of waiting in line or the months of waiting for a career opportunity to open up. What if we're exactly where we're meant to be, not in transition between two things perceived as more valuable?
I'm disappointed by this reading. The author (and the people who chose to republish it) seem to be limiting marriage to its legal contract and have missed its essence, its spiritual transmutation. We choose the lens through which we experience our world and, while there clearly is a limitation in marriage when seen in the eyes of the world, there is a multiplication, an infinity that opens up when entered and experienced spiritually. That is my experience and that of the people with whom I speak of marriage. And I humbly believe we're not different than anyone else, we simply made a choice. To open ourselves up to the spiritual transformation instead of limiting ourselves to the legal contract, to experience it through a lens of wholeness and love instead of limitation and constraint. Enjoy exploring your choice.
How exploring balance? Yes, understanding one's relationship with balance may invite us into experimentation of the extremes. It's very different if extremes are explored for the extremes' case or in our search for balance. While we also remember that balance is an individualized and moment-by-moment experience. Just like Thomas Merton's example shows, at times, our optimal response is reclusion and other times it's being in the middle of it all. Neither is good or bad in its own right. What most matters is personal alignment in the moment.
What then? We become Christ-like. We are love. We are peace. We are wholeness. We are light. We are equanimity. We are joy. We are aliveness and unity and nurturing and tranquility and health and ... all that we are meant to be for ourselves and for the world. For me, it's that simple. And so immense that I don't even try to comprehend what it means, or looks and feels like. That unknowning is what keeps me motivated to continue moving towards it.
I literally just clicked "post" on a story from this week's visit to prison, during which the men expressed the love they felt from watching a video of a classical music piece. As they watched the 9-minute piece, their hardness, their facades, their stories visibly melted away. They softened and settled into their chairs. When it was done, I asked them what they felt. "I felt joy." "Yes, and I also felt sorrow." "I felt love" "He played from his heart." Amazing to visually see these men connect to the deeper humanness that is transported and transformed by classical music. It's a reminder of our common humanness and that love liquifies all fear. Prison actually abounds of stories of love overcoming violence. For example, unbeknownst to anyone, a man had decided to commit suicide by going on a killing rampage of the officers. Four days before his selected date, he experienced unconditional love for the very first time in his life. This man is now one I see almost weekly. There are more... And each brings a huge smile in my heart
I deeply resonated with Lynne Twist's differentiation between taking a stand and taking a position. So many of us believe that if there is a winner, there must be a loser, that uplifting a truth means making others wrong. I've loved learning that this does not have to be the case. By taking a stand, I speak my authentic truth and honor that others speak their authentic truth as well. It's creates so much space for all to be heard. And it is actually in speaking my truth that I create that safe space for others to speak theirs; that's the deep irony here.
Many of the men I see every week spent years - and several over a decade - in solitary confinement. The impact to the human soul is astounding. In their brokenness grows either deeper fuller hate or they find the nourishment for the seeds of positivity and grace we all carry in our hearts. I spend time with the men who have found and then nourished those seeds and they speak of the moment they realized that they are responsible for their lives. When that kicks in, the solitary environment becomes a welcome space to explore the unknown world within. They learn to embrace their alone time and use it to grow and transform. What lessons I receive from these men! Just last night, one of them shared deeply about his discovery of listening, how all the answers show up if he just slows down to listen.
This one deeply resonates right now. So many aspects of my life are shifting right now: personal, professional, relationships, health, meaning, etc. It's been a practice to give up - or let go - without putting down. It goes for others. And it deeply goes for myself as well. How can I love myself, care for myself, support myself during this time of major shift? How can I give up on the patterns that no longer serve me without beating myself up for having held on to them for so long? I come back to love. Love and kindness. In thought, in words and in actions.
In learning how to authentically ask the question to another, there is also the step of learning to ask ourselves that same question. Can I pause several times a day, connect to my own heart and compassionately ask the question: How are you doing dear heart in this moment? There exists the challenge of pausing our busyness to take the time to ask the question. The greater challenge may be to create the space to truly hear the answer. Just like we expect a simple "fine" when asked "how are you?", it's easy to fall into allowing ourselves to provide a shallow answer when inquiring about the wellbeing of our hearts. And if creating the space to allow an authentic answer to surface was not challenging enough, then comes the challenge of having the courage to acknowledge and respond to its answer.
This reading is near and dear to my heart since I head to Donovan State Prison two to three times a week. The men at Donovan - many of lifers with 20 or 30 years of prison already behind them - have been told for the vast majority of their time in the judicial system that (1) they are societal scum and (2) by virtue of the crimes they committed, they are evil people. They have been dehumanized and pushed down into pits of despair and darkness so deep that many of them have thought of or attempted to take their own lives. Just as much as Nelson Mandela says that both the oppressed and oppressor are not free, the men at Donovan have proven to me that they can be free while behind bars. They have freed themselves from the prisons of their minds. They have found their light and their purpose. They now know that they have their contribution to give to the world and they provide it, behind bars, until the day they are able to share their gifts to us "on the streets" as they call the free world.
One example comes to mind. In his own words: He was "so deeply tormented by guilt, shame and lonliness" that he had decided to "commit suicide by killing as many correctional officers as he could before being taken out." A few days before his planned rampage, he was transformed by a bag of 120 letters of love and prayers written by complete strangers from the outside. Today, this man is one of my deepest examples of loving compassion and selfless service. His service actions are constant. He arrives early to the different programs to set up the chairs for the 50 men coming behind him. At the first class of a new program, a new inmate said that he needed paper and, without missing a beat, this man ripped the page on which he was writing from his pad and gave the rest of the pad to the new inmate. He picks up the litter in the Yard...
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This reading is near and dear to my heart since I head to Donovan State Prison two to three times a week. The men at Donovan - many of lifers with 20 or 30 years of prison already behind them - have been told for the vast majority of their time in the judicial system that (1) they are societal scum and (2) by virtue of the crimes they committed, they are evil people. They have been dehumanized and pushed down into pits of despair and darkness so deep that many of them have thought of or attempted to take their own lives. Just as much as Nelson Mandela says that both the oppressed and oppressor are not free, the men at Donovan have proven to me that they can be free while behind bars. They have freed themselves from the prisons of their minds. They have found their light and their purpose. They now know that they have their contribution to give to the world and they provide it, behind bars, until the day they are able to share their gifts to us "on the streets" as they call the free world.
One example comes to mind. In his own words: He was "so deeply tormented by guilt, shame and lonliness" that he had decided to "commit suicide by killing as many correctional officers as he could before being taken out." A few days before his planned rampage, he was transformed by a bag of 120 letters of love and prayers written by complete strangers from the outside. Today, this man is one of my deepest examples of loving compassion and selfless service. His service actions are constant. He arrives early to the different programs to set up the chairs for the 50 men coming behind him. At the first class of a new program, a new inmate said that he needed paper and, without missing a beat, this man ripped the page on which he was writing from his pad and gave the rest of the pad to the new inmate. He picks up the litter in the Yard...
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This reading reminds me of a transformative moment of my own a few months ago. My relations with my mother had been strained to almost absent for the 7 years before that. Every time I interacted with her, I found myself building a protective wall around myself, protection from the anger, hurt and pain I felt from her. One day, at her mom's home for her birthday, she started screaming at me, literally four inches from my face. My wall threw that emotion back at her, until, in a moment's notice, the wall melted and I met her anger with compassion. Instead of resisting and reflecting the anger, I allowed it to flow through me while sending back as much love and compassion I could must in that moment. Allowing it to flow past me, her anger did not touch me. Filling myself with love removed the sting of the experience. It changed everything for me. And coincidence or not, today, my mother and I are on speaking terms, slowing giving space to build a new relationship.