Trust Love

         For most of my life I’ve been a student of love, seeking to understand its mysteries and taste its sweetness.  I’ve searched for love and found it elusive.  So, I searched some more.

         I imagine the universe smiling gently at us humans searching and searching for what already surrounds us and is always within us - smiling gently at our apparent blindness to our lovability and love-ability - gently inviting us to search less and find more.

         I’ve come to believe that the search for love signals a mistrust of love.  In our yearning to experience love, we try to control it.  When we search for love in this fashion, we closely watch the other, focusing on how he/she orients toward us.  This expectant focus creates pressure in a relationship - a subtle force-field that impedes the free-flow of love.  We view love as a scarce commodity – and this scarcity belief becomes self-fulfilling.  The search for love begins with mistrust and ends with mistrust confirmed.

         A friend recently wrote: “Look in the mirror and love all that you see.”  More clearly than ever before, life teaches me that it is my job to love me – my job to see the love that is within me and all around me – and, eventually, to realize that love is who I am.  To quote my mentor, Richard Moss:  “You are, already, that which you seek.” 

         As I soften to love and relax into its unavoidability, love from all sources outside of me comes naturally - a free gift, over which I have no control and for which I am deeply grateful.  The more I open to love’s flow, the more I receive and radiate its abundance and the more I experience love’s economy as luxurious and luscious.

         I suspect that many of us have been focusing too intently on love.  Instead, let’s orient toward joy, service and fullness of life in the present moment - and let go of fretting about love.

         Let’s trust love.

Mud Settling

         A good friend recently wrote: “I’m really at odds with myself lately.  Trying to listen to what my heart needs.  Could use advice from a wise friend.“

         Presuming she meant me, I responded:  “Trust your heart, my friend.  Pose your question gently.  Let go of figuring and searching.  Allow heart-sense to appear when it’s ready. 

         “Having opposing feelings about things is part of the human condition.

         “Meanwhile, find enjoyment and nourishment in odd, small moments – like right now.” 

         The exchange reminds me of a quote from Stephen Mitchell’s translation of Tao Te Ching:

         “Do you have the patience to wait till your mud settles and the water is clear.

         “Can you remain unmoving till the right action arises by itself.”

         We stir up muddy water with our ruminations – figuring and figuring, round and round.  In the quiet of gentle breathing and simply being, muddy waters settle and clarify.

Watcher and Witness

         As an introspective person, I tend to notice how I introspect.  This noticing has helped me identify two primary vantage points from which I observe myself.  One I call Watcher and the other, Witness.  For me, both are personified as male. So, when I use masculine pronouns, I am speaking only of my own experience.

         The Watcher is a well-developed pattern of self-critical and fault-finding analysis and scrutiny.  For most of my life, the Watcher has handled the bulk of my inner observing.  His basic stance sounds something like this:  “James is not trustworthy, he requires careful monitoring, and he damn-well better be near-perfect and mistake-free or he’ll never belong and be loved.”  Because the Watcher developed within me early in life, he’s quite young, loudly opinionated and clearly biased in what he sees and points out.  His currencies are fear and shame.

         As I think about Witness, I find myself smiling.  He’s ancient, wise, calm and accepting.  My imperfections don’t seem to bother him.  He observes accurately and quietly, with kind eyes – and he never raises his voice.  I realize now that he’s been my companion all along – patiently accompanying me on the journey, observing my struggles and triumphs, my sorrows and joys - gently inviting me toward freedom and fullness of being, never judging, never doubting my value.  His currency is love. 

         The voice of Witness is so soft that I need to be very quiet, and attentive in the moment, to hear it.  His messages come at odd moments of grace.  While I can practice making space for these moments of quiet clarity, I have no control over when or how they arrive. 

         Watcher and Witness - two inner sources of feedback and guidance.  We get to decide.  We don’t have to entertain any pattern that damages the spirit.  We can consciously choose which source we cultivate and consider – consciously choose which voice we let in and listen to.

New Year Orienting

         For many of us, the year’s beginning is a time for reflection – a time to review where we’ve been and orient ourselves toward where we’d like to go.  It’s a time to look into the mirror with clear, compassionate eyes, to listen deeply to how we feel and what we value, and to pay attention to how our choices and behaviors line up with our deepest feelings and values.  It’s a time for clarity and gentle firmness with ourselves, a time to set realistic goals – baby steps, perhaps – moving us in the direction of our heart’s desire and our soul’s purpose.

         The standard joke about New Year’s resolutions is that we keep them for a week or two before reverting to old patterns.  Under the chuckle, there may be a sense that we don’t really take seriously the promises we make to ourselves.   For many of us, our word is more impeccable when we give it to others, than it is when we give it to ourselves.  We know that breaking our word with friends can damage our relationships with them.  I suspect we underestimate the harm that breaking our word does to the integrity of our connection within.  We may not see the message of disregard we give ourselves and the mistrust of self this disregard engenders.

         I tend to have lofty goals that inspire me and elevate my spirit.  The ideal of softening to love, for example, orients me toward opening my heart to the flow of love.  It orients me toward deeper connection with myself, with others and with the universe.  It’s been a “north star” in my life, toward which my inner compass points.  However, I rarely translate that loftiness into specific, concrete actions I commit to taking every day.  I go with the flow and do a number of things that move me in the direction I’m choosing.  I wing it - and that works out ok.

         I’m coming to see that the ideal I cherish deserves better than ok.  It deserves better than the nebulousness of winging it.  It deserves a clearer commitment, and more accountability, from me.

         Last May, a prayer/poem came to me during a powerful, vision-like experience I had while on a boundary waters wilderness retreat - an experience that mirrored for me, and connected me to, my Larger Self.  This prayer has become both an affirmation and an instruction for me:

Big Self,

Mirror Jesus.

Love in.

Love out.

Soften to Love.

Dissolve into God.

         So, one concrete, specific New Year’s resolution I intend to keep in 2018 is to make eye-to-eye contact with myself in the mirror each morning and say this prayer – meaningfully. 

         Perhaps, there’s a small, meaningful step you can take on a regular basis this year - one that moves you closer to your heart’s desire and your soul’s purpose – a promise you can keep.

         May your new year be healthy, happy, joyful and growthful!

         Hello again.  It’s been two years since my last post.  I do apologize for the abrupt absence.

         In recent months, life has opened new doors and offered new energy, including a growing readiness to return to writing. That readiness now feels ripe.  My intention is to post again on a regular basis – and to give a “heads up” when gaps are likely to occur.

         I am happy to be back with this practice – and back with you.

Our Story Too

         In the classic Christmas story, God took human form with the birth of Jesus.  In this story, the Incarnation was a one-time, one-person event.  Never happened before with anyone. Never will happen again with anyone else.

         I’ve come to enjoy a different version of the Incarnation story.  In this narrative, Jesus came to the realization – perhaps gradually, perhaps suddenly - that he was one with God.  In its final form, this realization was not an abstract idea for Jesus, but a fully-integrated knowing that permeated his spirit, his mind and every cell in his body.  

         The Incarnation was not an event.  It was a deep, embodied knowing.  Jesus literally realized (made real) and revealed a truth that the Divine is fully present in each human.  Each of us shares a divine nature.  Each of us is one with God.

         So … what if the Christmas story is not just about Jesus?  What if the Incarnation is our story, too?

         Have a merry and meaningful Christmas!

Two Commitments

       I turned 70 yesterday.  For a while, that number felt alarming.  Now, it’s mostly an invitation to re-orient toward fullness of life, to remember what’s important, to re-visit my commitments.  And, while there are many commitments in my life, two have recently come to the foreground:  Care for this being, called James, and transparency to the Flow of Love.

       I grew up with the notion that self-neglect is a virtue, that self-disparagement is humility, and that self-sacrifice is the highest Christian path.  I honor my tradition’s teaching to care for others and move away from self-absorption.  And I continue to work at releasing old, internalized invitations to disrespect, distrust and devalue my personhood.  

       When I care for myself in a grown-up way, there is no disregard for others.  There is, however, a claiming of responsibility for the life entrusted to me.  I don’t ask others to assume that responsibility – it’s mine. 

       Each day, I affirm self-forgiveness, self-acceptance, trust in, and love for, this being – with no claim of greater or lesser worth than anyone else.  I care for my physical, emotional, intellectual and spiritual health.  I nourish myself in each of those areas – as best I can – treating myself to good things and opening to the beauty around me.

       I listen to myself, attending mindfully to the various voices in my inner conversation – fear, shame, anger, yearning, desire, hope, love, thoughts, stories, values, commitments and consecrations.  I honor the little kid inside, the grown-up realist, the wise and loving inner guide.  In giving every part of me a voice, I do my best not to let the youngest and loudest voices dominate the conversation or control the decisions.  I pay special attention to the older, quieter voices deeper down.  As I listen in the quiet, agitation settles and muddy waters clarify.  Wisdom speaks.  Integrity unfolds.  And I am graced.

       The second commitment, transparency to Love, involves a softening and an opening to the Flow of the Universe.  I lighten and let go.  I release any resistance to the Flow of Love – any resistance to receiving and radiating, freely and abundantly.  I regularly re-mind myself and renew my commitment to transparency.  I remember that, in this Flow, separation dissolves.   Warfare within ceases.  I am peacefully present.  Right action naturally emerges. 

       Breathing helps us open to Flow.  Here are some practices I’ve been using.

       Connecting Heaven and Earth.  Inhale up from Earth through the soles of the feet into the heart; then exhale from the heart up through the top of the head into the heavens.  Or, reversing the process, inhale down from the heavens through the top of the head into the heart; then exhale from the heart down through the soles into Earth.  (If seated, you can substitute the base of the torso for the soles of the feet.)

       Whole Body Breathing.  Inhale light/love through every pore, into every cell of the body.  Exhale, sending light/love from every cell out through every pore.

       Shambhala Warrior Breathing.  Inhale deeply.  Gently extend the exhalation.  Follow and join the molecules of exhaled air as they dissolve into space.  Let yourself also dissolve – into the spaciousness of the Universe, into Oneness.

       Breathing Love.  Inhale Universal Love into the heart and exhale Love back to the Universe.  Love in.  Love out. Let your heart unite with the One Heart that embraces all.

       Transparency opens us to partnership with the Universe.  Love flow through us during meditation and quiet times.  It flows through us at work, at play and in all our interactions.  It flows when we’re awake and when we’re asleep.  With transparency, each of us becomes a Love radiator, a healing presence wherever we go.

       So, two commitments: to self and to Self.  The self that I care for on this planet dances with, and dissolves into, a larger Self, a Flow of Love.  Identity expands, softens, and, at times, appears to disappear. 

       I can think of no better way to contribute to the well being of All – including the well being of 70-year-old James.

Emptiness and Allness

Emptiness gives birth to Love.

Love gives birth to Everything.

Everything returns to Emptiness

And is born anew.

Emptiness is home to Allness.

Allness is home to Emptiness.

Love is the pathway

Home.

Emptiness and Allness -

Infinite, intimate, creative

Twirling and whirling -

God, Dancing Love.

Force or Flow

       I haven’t written in weeks.  The lapse nags at me – along with other important things that aren’t getting done.  With my 70^th birthday a few months down the road, I’m busier and working more than ever before. 

       I’ve been experimenting with flow, practicing non-resistance to the flow of a work-heavy life.  I’ve been amazed at how much can get done, with little sense of effort – working softer and freer, not harder.

       Over-extension interrupted the rhythm.  Self-nagging brought flow to a crawl.  Forcing, as it inevitably does, generated resistance.  Work was hard again.

       Deciding to just do it, I sit at the keyboard – consciously releasing the inner nag, softening, opening, inviting the free and joyful flow this practice brings.  Just begin, James.  Let being slip into doing.  Allow an unfolding that forgoes figuring, planning, time press and insistence upon efficiency, profundity and perfection.

       I think about the flow of life, the syncopated rhythm of flow and force – periods of inner companionship and cooperation, punctuated by the interior stalemate of pushing and resisting.  Sometimes, doing the dance, we are one with the music.  Sometimes, it seems, we’re out there with two left feet. 

       I feel a smile of mercy for all us beings, whose residence in flow is so inconsistent. 

       For six years now, I’ve been writing and sending forth.  The original intent was not to submit my work, but to quote others whose wise voices fueled my soul – thus, the heading “Weekly Wisdoms”.  I doubt if, back then, I’d dare call my writing “wisdom”.   After the first week or two, my voice elbowed its way to the foreground, and, for quite some time, writing flowed on a near-weekly basis.  Not so now.

       I need to bow to the reality of life as it is and release myself from the self-imposed pressure of weekly postings.  It’s time to honor my natural irregularity – as I honor my commitment to this practice and my enjoyment of sitting at this keyboard with you.  I won’t let this go.  I intend to let it find its rhythm.

       And so, a new heading:  Wisdom Writings.

       Thank you.

Softening to Well-Disguised Gifts

       I’ve been touched lately by the challenges life brings to people I care about.  I see the heroism of my 95-year old mother, facing her mortality, talking freely about it, bouncing back yet one more time from debilitating health issues.  I see the heroic spirit of dear friend who, in the face of inoperable cancer, throws a celebration-of-life party and continues to engage life, outliving predictions.  In my office, I see heroes every day, facing all sorts of adversity.  I see the courage required from them to keep putting one foot in front of the other, taking that next step with integrity, even when the path looks bleak and uncertain.  I see the courage of showing up and the courage of letting go.

       Here’s a passage from Mark Nepo in The Endless Practice, which speaks of eloquently about what life calls forth in us.

     “Tragedy happens to ordinary people every day: a loved one dies, or leaves, a purpose is lost, a life’s work is destroyed, our investment in a dream seems wasted when the dream catches fire.  Herein lies the mystery of woundedness and its infinite connection to aliveness:  life constantly asks us to meet fear and pain with love.  Not an easy thing to do.  But when we can, it’s like dousing a fire with water.  In the simmer, we are softened to each other and refined by the air.  This is the hard gift that waits in the troubles of living….

       “It is often at the intersection of beauty and suffering that we find meaning.  When vulnerable, the sage in us appears.  When softened, we often find wisdom in the press of beauty against pain.”  (Nepo, pp. 130-131)

       I am challenged by Mark’s words and by the heroism I see around me - to open my heart fully and resolutely to life and its curriculum - to stay transparent to the flow of love, in all circumstances – and to soften, with wisdom and courage, when faced with life’s well-disguised gifts. 

Wilderness Wisdom

       I’m just back from a wonderful, five-day wilderness retreat in the Boundary Waters with my good friend, Rich.  We spent much of the time in silence, soaking in the beauty around us – sights and sounds – waters rushing, waves lapping on the shore, the lush greens of cedars and pines, dramatic sunsets and moon sets, including one spectacular descending sun haloed in double-rainbow light.  For me it was a much-needed time to rest and recover from depletion, to listen in stillness, to re-connect with life, to re-balance and re-focus.

       We camped on a peninsula with a path – maybe a couple hundred yards long - connecting the lakeside where we pitched our tents and the riverside where the roar of the rapids immediately hushed my inner chatter.

       On the second day, that short hike between lake and river slowed to a walking meditation.  With each inhalation, I invited earth’s loving energy into my soles and up through my body to the top of my head.  With each exhalation, I sent the energy back down through my body and back into the earth.  My intention was to be as open and transparent as possible to the healing flow of love.

       At some point it struck me:  I was making love with Mother Earth – and being made love to.  I felt a pure connection with the Divine Feminine – and an ancient, familiar hunger for deep communion with the Feminine.    

       As I stayed with the experience, I remembered, once again, the spiritual nature of this hunger, the wisdom of approaching this hunger as a yearning for the Divine Within, and the goofiness that accompanies my efforts to satisfy this spiritual hunger in the realm of flesh and blood relationship.