We Are The Mountain

For us humans, emotions are a tricky thing. They can come and go in the blink of an eye, drop in without notice and drop out just as quickly, or decide to settle in and stay for a spell. Most of us relish what we deem the good emotions, and resist having to endure the ones we’ve come to see as bad or negative. The ones that don’t, well, feel good.

I’ve always been a feeling kind of girl. Emotions, even big, hard, painful ones don’t scare me. However, they can snag me, and before I know it, I’m wrapped around some kind of axle and in full reactive mode. It’s like I am the emotion, rather than me experiencing that emotion. It can be exhausting. For me, and for the people I share life with.

This morning, as most mornings, we sit on the front porch, coffee cups in hand, and read the daily offering of Fr. Richard Rohr, founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation (CAC) in Albuquerque, New Mexico.

His focus this week is Wisdom.

CAC faculty member, Cynthia Bourgeault, suggests that, “Wisdom is not knowing more, but knowing with more of you, knowing deeper.”

To help us dig deeper into wisdom, what it is, and how to grow more of it, Fr. Rohr created a list of 7 pathways, or ways of knowing, that can help us along our own wisdom way.

One of those pathways is emotion.

“Emotion: Great emotions are especially powerful teachers. Love, ecstasy, hatred, jealousy, fear, despair, anguish: each have their lessons. Even anger and rage are great teachers, if we listen to them. They have so much power to reveal our deepest self to ourselves and to others, yet we tend to consider them negatively. I would guess that people die and live much more for emotional knowing than they ever will for intellectual, rational knowing. To taste these emotions is to live in a new reality afterward, with a new ability to connect.”.

As we sat reflecting on our emotions as a way of knowing with more of ourselves, the changing light hitting Mt. Adams seemed to underscore what we had just read.

We are the mountain.

Emotion is our teacher.

Read the todays meditation in its entirety

Get Moving

“We do not think ourselves into new ways of living, we live ourselves into new ways of thinking.” ~ Richard Rohr

“You probably aren’t going to be able to think yourself out of this one Molly.”

Good words offered to me by a good friend during a recent conversation as I sat out on my front porch in the waning light in Washington, while he was on the other end of the phone in the waning light of southern California.

It is easy for me to get too involved with my own feelings for my own good, not to mention the good of everyone around me. I try and think my way to the other side of whatever it is, and, there is a time for sitting with our emotions in order to understand what they are telling us. But then it’s time to get moving, whether we feel like it or not, which, for the record, we probably won’t.

I’m not talking about running away from our emotions. They are, as the 13th century Persian poet, Rumi, reminds us in his poem, The Guesthouse, “…sent to us as a guide from beyond”. However, we all know that any guest can overstay their welcome.

Sitting too long has been referred to as the new smoking, and has been linked to all kinds of health risks. The same goes for sinking into the easy chair of our emotions. The longer we sit and think about them, the harder it is to get up.

In both cases, the key to our wellbeing is to get moving.

(With gratitude to DB)

Photo: invisiblepower on pexels.com

Everything

“We do not think ourselves into new ways of living.

We live ourselves into new ways of thinking.”

― Richard Rohr

Our lives are made up of so many bits and pieces that it is easy to lose sight of the wholeness of it all. Not the perfection of it all, but the wholeness that is our life. Like a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, each little piece contains a small fragment of the image that when put together will make the whole picture.

We, or at least I, get sidetracked by the small bits, forgetting that they are necessary to the whole. And in forgetting that they are necessary to the whole I let myself get swept up in frustration at what I’m not getting to, seeing things as interruptions to my day rather than integral to my day.

I forget that it all matters. I forget that the task at hand, the person on the other end of the phone, and the unexpected occurrence are all parts of the larger picture. They are all opportunities to show up fully and bring the best of myself to what, in that moment, is mine to do.

I forget that every emotion matters. I forget that there is as much to learn from the visitation of the hard emotions, the dark and painful ones, as there is from the gentle, shimmering, and delightful ones. That every one that comes knocking at my door has, as Rumi writes in The Guesthouse, been sent as a guide from beyond.

I forget that as Franciscan priest, author, and spiritual teacher Richard Rohr believes, everything belongs. Think about that for a moment. Everything belongs. Everything belongs. Everything belongs.

Everything.

What if we began to see everything that shows up at our doorstep as an invitation to become more of who we are meant to be?

What if we began to actually live into the truth that everything belongs.

It might just change everything.

Photo: pexels.com

With gratitude to Dane Anthony

Eyes To See

To be a Christian is to see Christ in everyone and everything.

Richard Rohr 

Leaving the conference where for three days we considered what it really means to be God’s people in the world, and to live out our faith in real and meaningful ways, one of my commitments is to practice seeing Jesus everywhere. To see in all I encounter the image of the One I claim to follow.

Easier said than done, which is why it is a practice. 

Walking back to pick up our bags from the AirBnB with this commitment fresh on my mind, walking directly toward us was my first opportunity to practice. A man that I might typically describe as “sketchy” stepped in our path. Instantly I was on high alert, adrenaline shooting through my veins, and I was ready to bolt. He appeared to be in his late twenties, scruffy beard, clothes that hadn’t seen a washing machine in some time, toting a backpack, and my immediate impression was that he was a sophisticated pan-handler, or worse. My practice of avoiding such folks is obviously well-honed, and the possibility that he might reflect the image of the Carpenter who lived about 2000 years ago didn’t even cross my fearful, judgmental mind.

And then Jesus showed up.  

Out of the mouth of the man blocking our path, the man I typically see as “the other”, the one from whom I would normally avert my eyes, came these words...I’m sorry to interrupt your conversation folks, but I need to tell you all to have a blessed day. 

With a warm smile and a nod, he continued on his way. 

I’m not saying that we should abandon our common sense and pay attention to our surroundings.  

I’m not saying we shouldn’t take protective action should we need it. 

I guess what I’m saying is that maybe we need new glasses with which to see the image of the Holy everywhere we look.

At least I know I do.

Betwixt And Between

Father Richard Rohr defines a liminal space as the place that is betwixt and between the familiar and the completely unknown.

That definition rings true, and sounds familiar, as this is the space where I find myself more often than not. That place between what I’ve known in the past, and that has perhaps served me well, but with a few more steps along my journey encountering new experiences, new information, new people, and new perspectives, I can no longer count on what I’ve known to guide my steps. This is, I think, how we are meant to travel in the world—letting go of certainty and grabbing ahold of curiosity instead. 

It is usually when I am sure that I know for sure, that I find out that I usually don’t. So much for certainty. 

Liminal places aren’t found periodically along our journey. They are the journey. 

In The Image Of...

Somewhere along the way, most of us forget who we are, who we have been from the beginning, and who we are meant to be forever. It’s time we remembered. Because only in remembering who we are and living into our fullness, can we love, help, and heal the world that is within our reach, the errand upon which we all have been sent.

In case, like me, sometimes you forget too, let’s remember together.

We are all created in the image of God. Every single one of us.

Every.

Single.

One.

Of.

Us.

That sounds really good, right? I think so too. But what does in the image of God really mean?

Today, a question, posed by the Reverend Jacquie Lewis compels me to think more deeply about that, and I hope it will compel you too. Standing tall at the podium, speaking to the thousands of us gathered here in Albuquerque and around the world via webcast, she took a deep breath, and with fierce passion in her heart and tears in her eyes, asked: 

Why are we willing to settle for such a puny God? A God who is unimaginative, stingy, exclusionary, transactional, and punitive?  

Today, in Albuquerque, here is the answer that comes to mind. An answer I hope to spend the rest of my time living into with all of my heart, and all of my soul, and all of my mind.

We are all created in the image of a magnificent, creative, imaginative, abundant, inclusive, relational, and restorative God. Every single one of us.

Every.

Single.

One.

Of.

Us.

We are created in the image of the God who invites all, welcomes all, recognizes all, reconciles all, and who pours out amazing grace to all from a cup that forever runneth over.

Amen. 

Setting The Table

This morning I woke up in Albuquerque, NM. Sitting out in the courtyard of our little casita with my coffee, I started reading a new morning book. Part of my practice to live with intention, and to show up as fully as I can for the day before me, is to spend some time reading something nourishing, something that feeds and challenges my soul. Today I turned the first page of the book, Making Sense of Mindfulness by my new-old friend, Keith Macpherson. Soul food at its finest!

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

Just about then my husband Tom joined me in the courtyard. Coffee and book in hand, he settled in with me under a brilliant blue morning sky. Looking up a few moments later, I noticed him reading something on his iPhone, and from the look on his face and the language of his body, knew that he was consuming something other than soul food. Some headline, about some less than soulful action, in some political arena, had whet his appetite and he was loading his plate from a buffet table of less than nourishing stories. 

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

Looking up a little sheepishly, he pushed that overflowing plate aside, and pulled up the blue plate special of the day by Richard Rohr, a Fransician priest, author, and founder of the Center for Action and Contemplation here in Albuquerque, and read it out loud. We do that most mornings, and it’s like splitting an order of soul food, both eating from the same plate. Together we’ve committed to this daily morning practice, but on any given morning either of us can get sidetracked, and are grateful when the other invites us back to the practice.

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day. 

Don’t get me wrong. I believe it’s important to stay informed, and there are terrible things going on in our world that need our attention. But in order to show up fully for playing our part in our shared human drama that is unfolding on our shared planet, we need first to nourish ourselves well. There is an abundance of research suggesting that a nutritious breakfast is essential to our health and wellbeing, and sets the tone for the day. What is good for the body is good for the soul. Let’s nourish ourselves well. The world is hungry for what we have to give. 

What we consume in the morning sets the table for our day.

Scar Tissue

“I have this thing about being a preacher who reveals things about herself, and it’s that I always try to preach from my scars and not my wounds.”

~ Nadia Bolz-Weber

There isn’t one of us who hasn’t been physically wounded. Thankfully, our bodies are designed to heal.

There isn’t one of us who hasn’t been emotionally wounded. Thankfully, our hearts are designed to heal too.

Healing of any sort however, requires time, attention, and sometimes professional help, but if healing is what we want, we have to do what it takes. When we ignore the injury, it can fester, infecting other tissue, or, other people, and everything is fair game. Our work, our interactions with everyone from loved ones to complete strangers, our mindset, outlook on the world, and opportunities, our finances, our pets, and our physical, emotional, and spiritual health. It may take energy to heal, but it is nothing compared to the energy required to ignore the pain and try to keep it under wraps. Trust me on this one.

Reflecting on Nadia Bolz-Weber’s words above I am convinced that every one of us can switch out the word ‘pastor’ for any word that applies to us, our work in the world, and our relationships with others. For me, it might look like this… “I have this thing about being a - wife, mother, grandmother, friend, sister, coach, writer, speaker, facilitator - who reveals things about herself, and it’s that I always try to - love, communicate, support, relate, speak, write, lead - from my scars and not my wounds.”

Recently, I’ve uncovered a wound that is calling for my attention, and as a new year approaches, I am determined to do the work it will take to transform that wound into a scar. It will take time and attention, but since healing is what I want, I will do what it takes.

In the words of Richard Rohr, If we do not transform our pain, we will most assuredly transmit it."