Christmas Awe

       According to quantum physicist, Niels Bohr, the opposite of a small truth is a falsehood, while the opposite of a great truth is another truth.  Great truths are paradoxical in nature.

       For me, Christmas is a great truth.  Human birth signals a movement from oneness in the womb toward a lifelong path of individuation – celebrating and discovering uniqueness and individuality.  The birth of Jesus adds a new dimension to the path.  His birth and his teaching orient us toward oneness – the unity of human and divine.  Christ-consciousness reminds us that we are one with each other, one with God, one with all that is.  The path of individuation is only the first part of a spiritual journey that eventually returns us, deepened by the journey, to original oneness.

       Christmas immerses us in mystery – the awesome, paradoxical truth that each of us is simultaneously one with everything and distinct from everything.  We are all one, and each one of a kind.

       In one version of the Christmas story, there was no room in the inn for the birth of Jesus.   Christmas invites us to make room in our “inns” for the birth of Christ-consciousness.  It beckons us toward spaciousness.

       Let’s open our hearts to mystery and immensity this season.  Let’s make room for Christmas awe.

Relaxed Readiness

       Advent, in the tradition where I was raised, is a time of preparation, anticipation, getting ready.  As I consider it now, a question arises:  How do we prepare for Grace? 

        If we’re not attentive, not ready for the unpredictable arrival of grace, we may miss its quiet approach.  If we’re tight or if we tighten, we may block its arrival or choke the fullness of its presence.

       There’s a balance, here, and a fluidity:  attending and softening, receiving and letting go, keeping eyes open and heart open, staying observant and transparent to the flow of life.

       This balanced state is what Richard Moss calls “relaxed readiness”.  It is a natural state that most of us need to re-learn.  And thus we practice.  Moment by moment, we are aware and we breathe.  Moment by moment, we see and we soften.

       We prepare for Grace.

Meditation Mercy

       Some years back, I shared a podium with a delightful Benedictine nun.  We were presenting on meditation and spiritual practice.  I remember being organized with my notes, as I talked about various approaches to centering.  In contrast, my co-presenter spoke off the cuff about what a treat it is to give ourselves quiet time and what fun it is to take regular breaks from the cares of the day.

       There was light-heartedness in her message – a playful spirit, an invitation to be at ease, to be merciful and gentle with ourselves – very different, in tone, from the somber spirituality that focuses on discipline and hard work.

       A few weeks ago, my friend Nicky sent around a quote, which echoes this merciful approach to spiritual practice.  It’s from a workshop she attended with Australian meditation teacher, Bob Sharples.  I pass it on for your enjoyment.

       "Don’t meditate to fix yourself, to heal yourself, to improve yourself, to redeem yourself: rather, do it as an act of love, of deep warm friendship to yourself. In this way there is no longer any need for the subtle aggression of self-improvement, for the endless guilt of not doing enough. It offers the possibility of an end to the ceaseless round of trying so hard that wraps so many people’s lives in a knot."

Bob Sharples

       It’s our nature to deepen.  When we listen and soften to our true nature, we grow quite nicely – even without “the subtle aggression of self-improvement” and “the endless guilt of not doing enough”.

Happy Thanks-giving

       When I feel into my body as I give thanks to God or anyone else, I remember a fundamental truth:  A grateful heart is a light and joyful heart. 

       Treat yourself to happy thanks-giving.

Inner Marriage

       Brian Roennow, a psychotherapist and spiritual teacher from Denmark, a wonderful friend and vibrant presence in the mentor group with Richard Moss, dashed off an email response to “Love-Ability” – a Weekly Wisdom I posted last month.  I was blown away by the depth of his insight and by its eloquence, especially since Brian responded so quickly and since English is not his native language.  I’m excited to share what he wrote.

       First, a couple quick notes:  In the chakra system, the solar plexus is an energy center that relates to personal identity (that which distinguishes us), and the heart is the energy center for love and compassion (that which unites us).  The word “chymical”, as Brian recently clarified for me, refers to a meeting of energies leading to mystical union and transformation.

        Here’s Brian:

In our hearts, feminine as well as masculine is present. But the feminine, encompassing empathic, nurturing and altruistic qualities etc., does not fight the masculine discerning, deciding and acting - and also altruistic - qualities. That fight goes on in the solar plexus/lunar plexus polarity at another level of consciousness.

No, in the heart, they marry, they say yes to each other and go forward into the chymical wedding. They are intimately forged together in a relationship where polarity is acknowledged and worshipped, in a deep playful manner.

And the fruit of this marriage is The Golden Child. 

This Child is our ability to connect with our deepest existence, with our deepest awareness of Self. Naive, playful, innocent, and yet full of wisdom and knowing. And it is our chance to ascend. Our ability to connect with the Divine, Nirvana, All, Non-dual. Whatever it is called. And to realize we have always been here - and we will never leave here - that is impossible and an illusion…

 Brian Roennow, personal correspondence, 10/21/13

       Joan Woolard, a dear friend and fellow sojourner in the Richard Moss mentor program, wrote this poem during a day of silence at the recent gathering of our group.  It touched something in me, as I suspect it may in you.

Porch Time

Breeze ever so gently beckoning to enter the pregnant pause

Take rest in the now; the land that time forgot

You know the place

It can be found between here and there

But don't look too hard or you'll miss it

Soften your gaze, loosen your grip and settle in

Let you mind wander and shift the focus of your awareness

Slip into the only place where you will find yourself, the now.

Nowhere to go

Nothing to do, fix or change

Just unending being with what is

Shadows lengthen

Leaves Rustle

Birds sing a call to action

Gather yourself and take flight on the wings of the now.

Joan Woolard

Big Heart Healing

       When I’m in distress – feeling anxious, ashamed, angry, etc. – the automatic tendency is to move into my head to process what I’m experiencing.  Truth be told, this is an attempt to defeat the distress, and it doesn’t work so well.  Usually, it just fuels the stories and interior dramas that create even more suffering. 

       Lately, I’ve experimented with acknowledging the distress, accepting its presence, and holding it gently in my heart – no analysis, no figuring, no words, no warfare.  I lean back, relax the body, breathe into my heart and witness heart’s natural expansion.  Small heart softens into Big Heart, the heart of compassion we all share.

       In this compassionate space, distress is invited to stay as long as it wants.  And yet, it dissolves – sometimes sooner, sometimes later.  Even when the discomfort is powerful and stubborn, I do my best to keep focused on the simple act of breathing into, and breathing out of, Big Heart. 

       The mind is a powerful instrument for processing many things.  Heart, however, is the better instrument for healing.

Love-Ability

       Classic romantic lore locates love “out there” in the lovability of what we love.  Love, from this perspective, is a positive judgment about someone or something – a judgment that tends to change as what’s out there alternates between more and less pleasing.  Implicit in this approach is the presumption that we can only love what we find lovable.  Our job, then, is to search the world for just the right love object – the one.

       In a recent lecture, “Love is Inside - Go Find It”, Michael Simpson asserts that love is an internal matter.  It has nothing to do with the desirability of an object and everything to do with the capacity to keep our hearts open and our energy flowing – a capacity we can all develop. 

       From this perspective, love is not a judgment.  It’s the simple act of opening our hearts as we engage with life.  Simpson claims that we can open our hearts at any moment, that we never have to shut down, that the only limits on our ability to love are self-imposed, and that there is nothing, inside us or outside us, that we cannot be present to with a soft heart.  There is nothing we cannot love.

       When caught up in the dominant paradigm of locating love “out there”, we tend to treat ourselves and others as objects.  We work hard to make ourselves lovable, so that love will come our way.  And we work hard to get our partners to become more lovable, so it will be easier for us to feel our love.  Frankly, all that hard work never produces lasting love.  The love we seek remains outside our grasp. 

       The shift to locating love internally is a movement toward taking sole responsibility for our love and our love-ability – not unlike the healthy way we take responsibility for our own happiness, self-esteem, serenity, sense of belonging and feeling of abundance.  It’s our job to keep our hearts open, no one else’s.  As social psychologists tell us, if two people are responsible for a job, it’s a lot less likely to get done than if one person is.

       Heart opening is hard work.   It takes wakeful awareness and persistent practice.  However, in contrast to the romantic approach, this hard work pays off.  We discover, inside ourselves, the vitality we’ve been seeking.  It’s always there – our love nature – our love-ability.

Focused Spaciousness

       Richard Moss, a mentor to me and many others, teaches Focused Spaciousness, an approach to meditation and centering that invites us to be keenly aware of our sensory experience – exquisitely focused – and, at the same time, to be fully present to the vast expanse of inner spaciousness. 

       Holding both simultaneously takes some practice – practice well-worth the effort, practice that draws us toward fullness of life at the center of being.

       On his website, Richard has posted two short video clips (The Art of Centering, Parts 1 & 2) demonstrating his approach.  I invite you to view them and, while you're at it, to browse his website:   www.richardmoss.com   

       Click on the link above and then on "Blog" to open the videos and other postings from Richard. 

       Enjoy!

Spiritual Nutrition

       Questions arrive – questions related to how I feed myself and my important relationships.  From a biological perspective, I know the foods we eat have a profound effect on health and vitality.

       Similarly, I wonder, how is my spirit affected by what I feed it?   The electronic and paper-based media I consume?  The thoughts I entertain and interior dramas I enact?  The places my mind habitually goes when there's a break in the action?  Does this diet nourish me?

       In my spiritual diet, is there a good balance of stimulation and quiet, connection and solitude, doing and not doing?

       How do I feed my important relationships?  Do I starve them through lack of attention and affection?  Is my relational economy booming or in recession? 

       Do I harm love – maybe even kill it – by the thoughts I harbor or the stories I tell myself about the other or about our relationship?  Is my relational diet contaminated by the toxins of criticism, contempt, defensiveness and stone-heartedness?

       How do I feed my heart so it stays soft, supple, spacious – and, therefore, vital?  How do I energize connections within me and with others?  How do I nurture fullness of life?

       Questions rumble.

       I observe.  I listen.  I know.

       I choose.