The Indian Tree and One Song

Every war and every conflict
Between human beings has happened
Because of some disagreement about names.

It is such an unnecessary foolishness,
Because just beyond the arguing
There is a long table of companionship
Set and waiting for us to sit down.

What is praised is one, so the praise is one too,
Many jugs being poured into a huge basin.
All races, all religions, all this singing, one song.

The differences are just illusion and vanity.
Sunlight looks a little different
On this wall than it does on that wall
And a lot different on this other one,
But it is still one light.

We have borrowed these clothes,
These time-and-space personalities,
From a light, and when we praise,
We are pouring them back in.

Rumi

Remembering 9/11 today.... wondering if we have gotten any closer to seeing our neighbor, seeing the Light in each other, as much as we are able to see. Peace.

Door Keepers

We stand by the door. We neither go too far in, nor stay too far out, the door is the most important door in the world - it is the door through which men and women walk when they find God.

There is no use in our going way inside, and staying there, when so many are still outside and they, as much as we, crave to know where the door is. And all that so many ever find is only the wall where the door ought to be. They creep along the wall like blind beggars, with outstretched, groping hands . . . feeling for a door, knowing that there must be a door, yet they never find it, so we stand by the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world is for men and women to find that door - the door to God. And the most important thing any person can do is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands and put it on the latch - the latch that only clicks and opens to one's own touch. So many die outside that door, as starving beggars die on cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter - die for what is within their grasp. Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it, and open it, and walk in, and find God . . . So we stand by the door.

Go in, great saints, go all the way in - go way down into the cavernous cellar, and way up into the spacious attic - it is a vast and roomy house where God is. Go into the deepest hidden casements, of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood. Some must inhabit those inner rooms and know the depth and heights of God and call out to the rest of us how wonderful it is. Sometimes we take a deeper look in, sometimes venture in a little further; but our place seems closer to the opening . . . so we stand by the door.

We admire the people who go way in. But we wish they would not forget how it was before they got in. Then they would be able to help the people who have not yet even found the door. You can go in too deeply, and stay too long, and forget the people outside the door.

As for us, we shall take our old accustomed place, near enough to God to hear him and know he is there, but not so far from men and women as not to hear them and remember that they are there, too.

Where? Outside the door - thousands of them, millions of them. But more important for us - one of them, two of them, ten of them, whose hands we intend to put on the latch. So we shall stand by the door and wait for those who seek it. We'd rather be doorkeepers ... So we stand by the door. We stand by the door.

These words, written by Samuel Moor Shoemaker, are dedicated to those who devote their time and energy to serve as door keepers at The Peace Abbey.

CLARITY IS FREEDOM

I had tea yesterday with a great theologian,
and he asked me,

“What is your experience of God’s will?”

I liked that question –
for the distillation of thought hones thought in others.
Clarity, I know, is freedom.

What is my experience of God’s will?

Everyone is a traveler. Most all need lodging, food,
and clothes.

I let enter my mouth what will enrich me. I wear what
will make my eye content,
I sleep where I will
wake with the
strength to
deeply
love


all my mind can
hold.

What is God’s will for a wing?
Every bird knows
that.

~ St. Teresa of Avila ~

Water finds a way

Morning greeted me today on Hampton Beach with fog and mist. As it was cool and not crowded, I chose to walk down by the water, and went south instead of north.

I've been musing a lot about paths these days - how we find them, how we discern them, and most often how they find us. I have a few major trends emerging, resurfacing again in my thoughts, mostly around education and travel and strengthening connections. They all seem disjoint and unrelated, but I am hoping for the day when their interconnectedness becomes clear to me. I suppose I assume that's the day I'll be more clear on how to proceed.

As I walked the beach, I noticed a trickly stream headed to the sea from up the beach. Someone had obviously tried to block the water's path yesterday with some stones in a makeshift dam, the remnants of which remained. I stood there in the stream, as the water flowed around my feet, and noticed how the water was blocked, and yet always found a way to proceed to the sea. This spoke to me quite strongly - as I watched that little trickly head south to join the rest of the massive ocean.

I have, and have always had, deep yearnings for fellowship, worship, education - all in community. Even when my particular path was unclear, the theme of community was strong. In my clearest moments of peace and rest, it is present. I think that's the thread I am still following after all this time. I may try to block with with small stones on my path , but that direction always flows through me, back to the Source.

I will eventually be involved in some discernment around all this with good Ffriends. I am hoping these small moments that I am noticing are tools to help me along the way!

The Way It Is

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.

~ William Stafford ~

The Prodigal Manifesto

1. An artist’s power lies in his own clarity about the role his work can play in the creation of a more beautiful world.
2. An artist will forgive because it is the possibility of another possibility.
3. An artist recognizes that everyone in the world, in their purest form, is an expression of the highest universal wisdom. It may be covered by layers of ego and fear but it is there. Like every mark on his canvas, an artist sees people for what they are… interdependent, individual expressions of God.
4. An artist understands that there are no great deeds. There are only small deeds done with great love.
5. An artist holds practice and commitment as the keys to love.
6. An artist is a spiritual warrior.
7. An artist knows that few places generate as much doubt as the wilderness.
8. An artist informs the world what is available behind the masks that we all wear.
9. An artist’s only job is to tend to our growth as people… our grace; our integrity; our humility.
10. An artist discovers that the only new frontiers are internal ones.
11. An artist begins the journey rather than dreaming about the final destination.
12. An artist recognizes that his ego is not a monster… just the idea of a monster.
13. An artist makes a radical commitment to a different way of being; a mental response to life that is completely at odds with the thinking of the world. It is a conscience decision to defy ego’s voice.
14. An artist knows why the caged bird sings.
15. An artist looks for innocence in the mirror.
16. An artist programs his future by how he lives his present.
17. An artist is a living manifestation of the voice everyone hears at the edge of sleep.
18. An artist knows the “feel” of faith. Faith is not blind; faith is visionary.
19. An artist is a miracle worker of the world that could be. A miracle is a change in perception.
20. An artist understands that fear is a call for love.
21. An artist discovers a simple truth… anything that is not love… is illusion.
22. An artist is the prodigal son come home.

All this wisdom, and much more, can be found here.

Trusting in the Change

Scituate, MA Elementary Honor Band with Thomas C Duffy, Yale. Commissioned work rehearsal, Spring 2008


If we dwell in the presence of God, we shall be led by the spirit. We do well to remember that being led by the spirit depends not so much upon God, who is always there to lead us, as upon our willingness to be led. We need to be willing to be led into the dark as well as through green pastures and by still waters. We do not need to be afraid of the dark, because God is there. The future of this earth need not be in the hands of the world's 'leaders'. The world is in God's hands if we are led by God. Let us be led by the Spirit. Let us walk with a smile into the dark.

Gordon Matthews, 1987


A few years ago I was in a job that I loved. It was a long commute, and some other hassles, but I had opportunity to work with great people, I was respected in the job, and was doing good, creative work with great kids. Budget cuts put my position in jeopardy, and I had to consider whether it was feasible to find work somewhere else. The employment kept coming back and leaving, and it seemed it would stay and all would be well, around the time I had a big concert/gathering of students. At that event in the lobby, I found myself telling a colleague, "well, this might all still work out. Perhaps this is the place for me".

At that moment I felt a strong sense telling me simply "This is NOT it". I have no idea what that was, exactly - except it was right. Soon after I was offered another position, and although I was not sure it was the right move, I accepted the job and it turned out to be exactly what I needed at that time.

How often as this happened? When I am open to it, more times than I can count. Quakers call it "Way opening" - Julia Cameron calls it "listening to the Universe".

When our highest self becomes actualized, it seems like all is "right" with the world. Robert Fritz calls this "The Path of Least Resistance". Fritz does not say that the path is an easy one - it is just the path we are meant to be on, and we do not resist it. In Quakerly terms, we are given leadings, able to see Openings,and discern a direction. In my case of late, it seems also to mean some pretty amazing cases of "Synchronicity" occur as well! Fritz also says this opens us up in a state of Transcendence...

The other life-building principle is transcendence – we can transcend the consequences we have put into motion. Cause and effect are suspended. Past actions do not become manifested in future outcomes. The past, no matter what it has been, is no longer a dynamic that must play itself out. Not only do we recognize the past is over, it is no longer at issue. We are able to re-create our lives anew. -Fritz

I feel called to return to that space right now. I have not really been dwelling there for a long time - I just visit. The "visits" let me glimpse a brighter, deeper way of being, but the effort to leave the tedium of some of my day-to-day commitments has been a strong pull. Time to take that leap!

“I have learned, as a rule of thumb, never to ask whether you can do something. Say, instead, that you are doing it. Then fasten your seat belt. The most remarkable things follow.” - Julia Cameron

Little moments of salvation

Normally my morning beach walk includes a quiet read of poetry, Bible, whatever I feel moved to carry that day. Today I looked over the ledge of the sidewalk, onto the sand, and found a crab struggling to right itself and continue walking on the sand. The water was very far away, and there were some very hungry seagulls in between - he needed a little help.

So...I walked down to the sand, picked up the snapping crab, dumped him in my shoe and headed to the water. It was a new northern section of the beach, where I had not walked before. There were some rocks up ahead, and surprisingly, there were tide pools there. I dumped out the crab and he happily scurried sideways under some rocks, where I was convinced he would live another day.

Yesterday I had a great day of sharing with new F/friends who helped me along in a time of difficult questioning. It was unexpected, it was more helpful than I could have ever dreamed, and more timely than I would have ever hoped for. How often to we overlook such amazing gifts that we are given? This crab I found today was in the middle of no where, certainly "doomed", even if unaware of the circumstance at the time. And yet out of nowhere he was scooped up and saved. Propelled onto a new path.

Quakers (the weighty, "real" Quakers I tend to like so much) were quite aware of these happenings. In a world of many trials, where it seems the curtain is closing and the cavalry will not make it in time, the "big save" always seems to occur. Perhaps not in the way they expected - but certainly in the way most needed and helpful at the time. I'm hoping in the next few days, as I myself move into some new and uncharted spiritual territory for me, to remember it is not my job to fix anything, save anyone, but merely to sit back and faithfully watch the unfolding, and be grateful.

My own will and desires were now very much broken, and my heart was with much earnestness turned to the Lord, to whom alone I looked for help in the dangers before me. - John Woolman

Standards

This morning, as I walked the Hampton seacoast, I though about standards. I am asked to do this often in the field of education - and I am sure I do it subconsiously in many areas of my life.

I was told once by a well-meaning (and caring) F/friend, "you have really high standards for members of your community". That was months ago, but it rose in me today. At the time, I disagreed. At that time, it implied that I was judging others, critical of their behavior if it didin't fit my standard.

I imagined that differently today in the hazy mist of morning. My standards are very high indeed. They are what I seem at the moment to call Christ's Standards. There's really only one - "love everybody". That's it. High? You betcha. Unattainable? For everybody I've met thus far.

I think what my F/friend was speaking of were my expectations. I am figuring out if those are in the right place. Do I expect others in my meeting to "fix" my problems? Do I expect them to hold to that standard of universal love, in all situations, without failing or struggling as we humans often do? I hope not.

I do, however, expect them to listen to me. And to sit with me in fellowship and prayer as I figure out next steps on a spiritual path. I'm not sure where that falls in the "reasonable" realm. It seems, at the moment, to be the right question to be asking - and I am blessed today to have found this query.

Sweet Darkness

When your eyes are tired
the world is tired also.

When your vision has gone
no part of the world can find you.

Time to go into the dark
where the night has eyes
to recognize its own.

There you can be sure
you are not beyond love.

The dark will be your womb
tonight.

The night will give you a horizon
further than you can see.

You must learn one thing:
the world was made to be free in.

Give up all the other worlds
except the one to which you belong.

Sometimes it takes darkness and the sweet
confinement of your aloneness
to learn

anything or anyone
that does not bring you alive

is too small for you.

~ David Whyte ~

I'm struggling quite a bit with finding the words to make some changes. I feel like so often the conversations sound like commentary on where the listener is, not where I am, or am seeking to go. I am grateful that the past year has led me to some treasured experiences - I have met some great people and sharing their stories has been helpful to me. But occasionally those stories push me in a new direction of action - and I do not feel free to explore those anymore.

I am trying to communicate that this is my journey, and although I would like the companionship it's not a criticism of anyone else. I'm not sure yet quite how the answer when someone says "we miss you" without acknowledging that my journey is hard or not always welcome. I simply can't worry about other's right now. I'm being called way out of my comfort zone, and remaining isn't an option either. I'm hoping that way opens soon....

The beach

Hampton Beach - John Greenleaf Whittier

The sunlight glitters keen and bright,
Where, miles away,
Lies stretching to my dazzled sight
A luminous belt, a misty light,
Beyond the dark pine bluffs and wastes of sandy gray.

The tremulous shadow of the Sea!
Against its ground
Of silvery light, rock, hill, and tree,
Still as a picture, clear and free,
With varying outline mark the coast for miles around.

On, on, we tread with loose-flung rein
Our seaward way,
Through dark-green fields and blossoming grain,
Where the wild brier-rose skirts the lane,
And bends above our heads the flowering locust spray.

Ha! like a kind hand on my brow
Comes this fresh breeze,
Cooling its dull and feverish glow,
While through my being seems to flow
The breath of a new life, the healing of the seas!

Now rest we, where this grassy mound
His feet hath set
In the great waters, which have bound
His granite ankles greenly round
With long and tangled moss, and weeds with cool spray wet.

Good-by to Pain and Care! I take
Mine ease to-day
Here where these sunny waters break,
And ripples this keen breeze, I shake
All burdens from the heart, all weary thoughts away.

I draw a freer breath, I seem
Like all I see
Waves in the sun, the white-winged gleam,
Of sea-birds in the slanting beam,
And far-off sails which flit before the south-wind free.

So when Time's veil shall fall asunder,
The soul may know
No fearful change, nor sudden wonder,
Nor sink the weight of mystery under,
But with the upward rise, and with the vastness grow.

And all we shrink from now may seem
No new revealing;
Familiar as our childhood's stream,
Or pleasant memory of a dream
The loved and cherished Past upon the new life stealing.

Serene and mild the untried light
May have its dawning;
And, as in summer's northern night
The evening and the dawn unite,
The sunset hues of Time blend with the soul's new morning.

I sit alone; in foam and spray
Wave after wave
Breaks on the rocks which, stern and gray,
Shoulder the broken tide away,
Or murmurs hoarse and strong through mossy cleft and cave.

What heed I of the dusty land
And noisy town?
I see the mighty deep expand
From its white line of glimmering sand
To where the blue of heaven on bluer waves shuts down!

In listless quietude of mind,
I yield to all
The change of cloud and wave and wind
And passive on the flood reclined,
I wander with the waves, and with them rise and fall.

But look, thou dreamer! wave and shore
In shadow lie;
The night-wind warns me back once more
To where, my native hill-tops o'er,
Bends like an arch of fire the glowing sunset sky.

So then, beach, bluff, and wave, farewell!
I bear with me
No token stone nor glittering shell,
But long and oft shall Memory tell
Of this brief thoughtful hour of musing by the Sea.

health

Today is a good reminder about how fragile our health can be. Yesterday I was tired, and once we turned the air conditioner on (just low) I needed a blanket most of the day (and THREE at night). It did not dawn on me until this morning that this could be a thyroid issue - but it probably is. As someone with a chronic health condition, it surprises me sometimes that I forget I am sick. How timely - after spending yesterday trying to figure out how to slow down and rest, my body's doing it for me. Today's practice will be one of gratitude for the health I still have, and (hopefully) for more health that will return. And fruit, lots of fruit!

“Can you see the holiness in those things you take for granted–a paved road or a washing machine? If you concentrate on finding what is good in every situation, you will discover that your life will suddenly be filled with gratitude, a feeling that nurtures the soul.” — Rabbi Harold Kushner

returning...

This week's vacation was blessed on many levels - and I am sure to share moments here. A surprisingly difficult task, however, was slipping back into "real life" here at home. While on vacation, I was fortunate to have free fun time with my family, time to walk and rise early and read and learn new things. All which I am also, luckily, able to do for the most part at home. However, I arrived home with reminders of the life I had laid aside for the week. Commitments I had made, scheduling conflicts that I was asked to solve, the usual.

This arrival home left me in tears last evening. I think after a while year, I was finally able to taste a bit of that "jubilee"moment - the time for laying aside of all things, to hear what we are called to do again with fresh ears.

I spent the week in Newtown, home of Edward Hicks, who had some trouble discerning his calling in his early life. Hicks had a talent for painting, but that was considered "unacceptable" in the ornamental style of the day, not a profession for a devout Quaker. And yet, once Hicks was able to hear his call, he was able to use his talents to express his ministry in the way he could be best used.

I'm okay with being a member of committees, doing my part to help the meeting here at home, and all of that. But the spiritual dimension of my current growth, the reason in part I spent time in Newtown and Philadelphia, is getting pushed aside. My tears of frustration upon returning were caused by the notion I might lose what I had just worked so hard to discover.

I feel urged, especially this week through the writings of early Friends, to take time, to sit with concerns as they arise, and to consider and be aware of new openings. When my life is cluttered with too much to do, I can no longer hear any inner promptings. I have been struggling to find a way to define my confusion, but it now seems quite clear to me. Rest and deeper time of listening is what I experienced this week. I feel the need to clearly resolve not to let that process fade away, and to clear my schedule and my heart of all the unimportant clutter.

A number of well-meaning members of my meeting have expressed concern for my level of commitment. They have gently reminded me not to take on too much. I am hoping this indicates that they will be okay with my laying down of many future commitments. My first calling right now seems to be the fellowship and worship in my own meeting, and in certain others. I am going to try to stay true to that call as it (hopefully) appears.

Untying knots by the light of the rising sun

Children and lunatics cut the Gordian knot which the poet spends his life patiently trying to untie. - Jean Cocteau

This morning's beach walk was clear and breezy. I still feel restless, like there is a problem to be solved, a journey to be embarked upon, and I suspect the lesson of patience is still on my horizon.

As I clicked on the radio and started the car, Henry Purcell's "The Gordian Knot United" was announced. I sat and watched the waves roll in, and listened, and thought about knots.

The Gordian knot, beyond its history, has become a metaphor for a particularly difficult problem, one with no seeming solution that one must be willing to cut away in order to solve. Perhaps that slashing represents the "out of the box" thinking (my own well-used metaphor). Today it seems to me to be an impatient rush to solution, that eliminates the healing and wisdom of the journey and process of finding a new pathway.

A little internet research this morning also reveled the healing power of the Gordian Knot. In fact, many people wear them as spiritual jewelery with healing properties...

"Three are the circles of existence:
The circle of Light where dwells nothing but God and only God can traverse it.
The circle of Chaos, from which all things by nature arise from death.
The Circle of awareness where all things spring from life."
Emerald tablet of Thoth

I'm not really sure I need to start wearing anything, my current practice of Spirit works fine for me. But today I do feel more open to new avenues of learning. I see in today's musings a reminder that some problems contain a gift in the solving, more so than the solution.

Clearness?

"Your job is to find what the world is trying to be." - William Stafford

I'm doing a lot of musing on a F/friend's blog post today about how she feels God speaks to her in a very direct way. Today was a very different Hampton Beach from yesterday. The skies were clear, and I felt as if I could see for miles.

I did not, however, feel on the inside any better than yesterday morning - I still felt lost in a fog, not the fog of unknowing or wonderment or forgetting (gracious we have many kinds of fog!). Just the simple fog of confusion, which muddles my process, leads me away from peace and leadings, and creates fear that is unwarranted and toxic.

This is the part where the bargaining with Spirit always begins for me. "If I could only glimpse one moment, be given one small step with which to proceed on the path...". This is also where the great sages and mystics of the Universe have also gotten stuck. Often. Somedays I am gracefully kicked back to "beginning mind" - or more often, I spend a little time wallowing.

Today I opened Stafford's book (which is always in my glovebox) and his words spoke to me, in a clear directive....

"Your job is to find what the world is trying to be."

The world, for today, is my Quaker Meeting. For there is where I feel so often that we collapse into a lack of Spirit, a lack of intent, an elimination of prayerful space. This week I have been hit with "nudges" - simple but profound signs (and interactions with others) that we are wanting to go deeper, to experience each other and Spirit in community. For me, the community is always involved. That's the hardest part - I'm a really a pretty good solitary spirit - involve others and I get cranky and trapped in assumptions. Repeatedly.

I have no idea what is in store next. Which is most likely exactly where I need to be in order for anything to happen!

Fog.

(I am back to blogging. My hiatus was accompanied by lots of journaling - but I'm finding it too tedious to have to copy into my notebook all the poetry and quotations with arthritic hands. We'll see how this goes.)

This morning I took a long walk on Hampton Beach. I almost didn't head there this morning, as there was thick fog and rain was threatening. I am glad I ended up there - as often happens, the weather, the beach, the sea, all spoke in metaphor to my condition today.

The fog was so thick I could not see more than a few feet into the beach - I could not tell if the tide was high or low, and I could barely hear the waves. I was reluctant to venture out into the mist, but I kicked off my flip-flops and headed into the cool, freshly raked sand.

About ten steps in, and I could not see the sidewalk I had just left. I still couldn't see the ocean, and I felt myself in an uncomfortable place between two worlds. Most likely because of the heavy mist around me, the separation felt tangible. I kept on walking, wondering when I would see the water. The sand became smoother, wetter, and soon I saw the stones and heard the waves.

This morning was a very low tide, and I had to walk out even further to the ocean. I turned around, and could not see any sign of the boardwalk, my car, or much of the sand. What surprised me, and made me smile, is what I did find.

At the ocean's edge, there were people - lots of them! We beach walkers are a strange bunch - rising to greet the dawn when others are still sleeping, and there is an unsaid sort of understanding as we nod in greeting to each other as we pass on the beach. Its own kind of community, people joined in their love of the ocean and cool mornings and peace.

Today's reflective moments for me all centered around community, unknowing, risks, and how we find ourselves. I feel right now like I am on some sort of journey, and the next steps, and the meeting of the community, cannot happen unless I am willing to venture out and lose sight of the shore. And there on this misty morning, the community was waiting for me.


In the Fog

It's strange to wander in the fog!
A lonely bush, a lonely stone,
No tree can see the other one,
And one is all alone.

The world was full of friends back then,
As life was light to me;
But now the fog has come,
And no one can I see.

Truly, no one is wise,
Who does not know the dark
Which inevitably and silently
Does from others him part.

It's strange to wander in the fog!
Life is loneliness
No Man knows the other one,
And one is all alone.

- Hermann Hesse

Books, books, books...

I spent this afternoon cleaning and organizing some bookshelves in the worship room at the meetinghouse with some Friends. The result is a neater space, the beginnings of an accessible library, and a realization that we own some of the very books on my "to read" list.

We also had a large pile of Bibles in the meetinghouse, most in pretty poor condition, and probably needing to be disposed of. We saved a few copies of the newer ones, and promptly stored them on a high shelf behind a closed door that might be very noisy if one wanted to open it during meeting for worship, perhaps, let's say, to access one of those Bibles.

I was back there this evening, and as I sat quietly I was overcome by a certain sadness. I tend to end up in that worship room many a morning, and as often as not I tend to grab a pile from the stack-of-bibles-that-used-to-be-there. I instinctively looked at the empty shelf where they used to be, and wasn't sure what to think. I remembered back to this month's query, which had just been read yesterday in this very room:


Spiritual Life
Do you live in thankful awareness of God's constant presence in your life?
Are you sensitive and obedient to leadings of the Holy Spirit?
Do you seek to follow Jesus, who shows us the way?
Do you nurture your spiritual life with prayer and silent waiting and with regular study of the Bible and other devotional literature?

I'm not one to get really picky with these queries, I see them as point for deeper reflection - in fact, I must admit I might not often even remember them specifically the next day. And yet this one stuck with me - the Bible/Jesus parts. I'm just not sure how to process all of this. I'm sure this nagging feeling must mean something - perhaps I'll figure it out tomorrow in filling up the space where the Bibles used to be?

Update: Hey hey hey - Brent Bill's thinking about Bibles too over on his (fantastic) blog - and this post just popped over to me as I was finishing mine. YAY.

The Quest

Rare moments come to us in our journey when the penny drops, the tumblers click, the pieces fall into place, the lights come on, and our breath is taken away. The old paradigm falls away behind us like a port of departure, and we are won over to new possibilities, caught up in a new way of seeing, looking toward a new and wide horizon. The Lord has more light and truth to break forth, we believe, and so we raise our sails. We are embarked on our quest. - Brian McLaren

I've been reading some complementary books this week - Joseph Campbell's The Hero With a Thousand Faces and Karen Armstrong's The Case For God. Both have elements of myth, folklore, journeys, and a sense of one's "quest" to find a higher power, meaning in life, making sense of the greater world in which we live.

Although I am reading Campbell's book for a spiritual book club, (thus my reading is focused on more "religious" themes of late) I am hearkened back to many of the wise words of Julia Cameron. She, too, speaks of this quest, this journey - in terms of our latent creativity, our blocks in becoming our true selves, the obstacles we find and in many ways, create.

I think if we focused more these days on the universality of the quest itself we might all get by a bit better. When the quest becomes a search for "heaven" - MY heaven, MY God, MY spiritual path - we no longer hold fellowship with each other. And what a rare gift to be able to recognize that quest, that longing in others, regardless of its name. Great artists have tried to show us this path for years, in their own unique interpretation. What makes one painting flow, speak to us, call out to us in a way we instantly connect with? It is that thing that cannot be named. It is that spirit, that connection, that I hope we are able in this world to gain more focus of.

We undertake certain spiritual exercises to achieve alignment with the creative energy of the universe..As a teacher, I often sense the presence of something transcendent -- a spiritual electricity, if you will -- and I have come to rely on it in transcending my own limitations. I take the phrase inspired teacher to be a quite literal compliment. A higher hand than just my own engages us. Christ said, "Wherever two or more are gathered together, there I am in your midst." The god of creativity seems to feel the same way. The heart of creativity is an experience of the mystical union; the heart of the mystical union is an experience of creativity. Those who speak in spiritual terms routinely refer to God as the creator but seldom see creator as the literal term for artist. I am suggesting you take the term creator quite literally. You are seeking to forge a creative alliance, artist-to-artist with the Great Creator. - Julia Cameron

CERTAINTY

CERTAINTY

Certainty undermines one's power, and turns happiness

into a long shot. Certainty confines.

Dears, there is nothing in your life that will

not change - especially your ideas of God.

Look what the insanity of righteous knowledge can do:

crusade and maim thousands

in wanting to convert that which

is already gold

into gold.

Certainty can become an illness

that creates hate and

greed.

God once said to Tuka,

"Even I am ever changing -

I am ever beyond

Myself,

what I may have once put my seal upon,

may no longer be

the greatest

Truth."

~ Tukaram ~

Trying to be flexible. We had a big Peace Center event this week - it went well, it was well attended, we became more informed. However, it left me feeling an absence of a more immediate impact. While I know we cannot ever know the impact of our actions in the long term, the discussion of the evening focused around our country's going to war, while so many other planetary concerns are growing at an alarming rate. How do we also address those concerns, locally, in our own environment, as we seek to create a better future for all of us?

My whole graduate degree, in fact perhaps my whole life since, has been a focus "outside the box". We will need this skill if we are to combat the future problems of the world. I found myself trapped this week in a perception of what "peace" should look like. I felt limited, powerless, unable to help anywhere. But by letting myself be open to the problems as they really are, not just as I perceive them, I may be able to slowly find a new way to solve them. Not all of them, certainly not even the large ones, but at least a small local difference.

Creating Space

Imagine your soul as being like the
Tyne Bridge. There are busy times and
quiet times. The job of the bridge is not
to ask what is in the cars or lorries but
simply to bear their weight for a few
seconds and then allow them to go on
their way. There is no problem when the
flow of traffic is even, but when breakdowns
and bottlenecks occur, the fights
and the impatience begin. Your soul,
too, has to take the weight and let it go.
The suffering becomes prolonged only
when you do no acknowledge its existence
and let it pass on. Then it sits on
your soul like a judgment.

The time to repair the bridge is in the
night when the traffic is light. Your
prayer in quiet times gives you the
strength to cope with the heavy, busy
times. You dig, patch and repair in the
night. As a result, the world can flow
over your soul in the day without congestion.
You must allow the flow of
faith, love, healing, hope, joy and light
to pass through you into the world. You
must allow the flow of hatred, darkness
and sin to flow from the world through
you to God.

All of this is done by prayer, and by
forgiveness of yourself, of others and
perhaps even of God Himself for what
you feel He has done to you. Little by
little, you grow in the power of prayer,
in the ability to bear the weight and
accept the contradictions of the two way
flow between God and the world.

This passage from Aidan Clarke has popped up in a few places for me this week. I feel like I have been trapped recently in that "heavy time" Clarke speaks of. And yet, my efforts to create a quiet space, to meditate and clear my mind of daily troubles, has become a practice for me that has helped me this week. By the end of the week, I was able in visits (with Friends socially, in committee meetings, and in other meetings for worship) to see some new insights, enjoy being in the company of others, and be open to find new similarities of experiences that give me strength. The small moments, the taking time to really look at a painting, read a passage of scripture, visit a friend in need, were actually all the "big moments" I needed.

Carrie Newcomer

I thought I’d live a louder life
I’d learn a lot and get it right
I’d rent a loft I’d drink all night
I’d be a living archetype
And in a blinding flash of light
I’d see that one great insight
But silence called me deeper still
Like nothing else ever will


So today I’ll drop stones into the river
And the current takes them out into forever
And the truth is most of us will never know
Where our best intentions go
And still I’ll drop another stone


First there is the folding in,
To gather light and dark to you.
The journey down so far that it,
Has nowhere else to go but through.
I thought if I tried hard enough,
With endless motion like a bribe,
As if by this the will of God,
Could be bent to my version of right.
What happens next is nearly weightless,
The opening where we stand breathless,
On the clean edge of change.

Just a few wise words from Carrie Newcomer, who I was fortunate to hear sing last night in person. She performed at a Unitarian Church's "coffee house" gathering - she sang in their worship space, and it was intimate and informal, and profoundly moving for me. I listened to Carrie's music long before I knew she was a Quaker, or even what Quakers were. Her music seems to connect with me on a deep level, naming things that so often cannot be named within me. She is also a F/friend to Parker Palmer and Brent Bill, both writers whose work I also admire deeply. Perhaps we are all just standing in the same stream? It was an honor and I was humbled to hear her wise words last evening. As so often happens, it was a last minute finding of a last minute performance as way opened effortlessly for me to hear her message.

In A Dream (to video)

The film about Isaiah Zagar's mosaics an his life is out on DVD - just rewatched it courtesy of Netflix. I'm reminded of how creativity is so individual, and the creative drive cannot be suppressed in so many people. I am glad this film is available for more people to watch!

Isaiah Zagar's Magic Gardens

A link to the film

Real Knowledge

You can go to theological seminary, and study about religion. You can learn the history of the Christian Church. You can know all about the Synoptic problems of the Gospels and have your own theories about Qand the J, E, D, and P document of the Hexateuch, you can know all the literature about the authorship of the Johannine epistles, whether the author was John the beloved disciple or another of the same name. You can know all about the history of Quakerism, you can know the disputes behind the Nicene Creed and the Constantinopolitan Creed....the Thirty-nine Articles of the Church of England. You can know the homilectics and rules of good sermon structure, you can know church symbolism and the meaning of the feasts and fasts of the church. You can know all this, and much more. But unless you know God, immediately, every day communing with Him, rejoicing in Him, exalting in Him, opening your life in joyful obedience toward Him and feeling Him speaking to you and guiding you into ever fulling loving obedience to Him, you aren’t fit to be a minister. There is so much that is wonderful about books.
But he who relies for his sermons upon book stuff about religion, and is not at the same time enjoying immediately and experiencing vitally fresh illumination for God, is not a real minister, even if he has a degree in theology from Oxford or Cambridge. Second hand sermons aren’t real sermons. Only first hand preaching counts. -- Thomas Kelly, 1939.

Silence.

In Silence

Be still.

Listen to the stones of the wall.

Be silent, they try

To speak your

Name.

Listen

To the living walls.

Who are you?

Who

Are you? Whose

Silence are you?

Who (be quiet)

Are you (as these stones

Are quiet). Do not

Think of what you are

Still less of

What you may one day be.

Rather

Be what you are (but who?) be

The unthinkable one

You do not know.

O be still, while

You are still alive,

And all things live around you

Speaking (I do not hear)To your own being,

Speaking by the Unknown

That is in you and in themselves.

“I will try, like them

To be my own silence:

And this is difficult. The whole

World is secretly on fire. The stones

Burn, even the stones

They burn me. How can a man be still or

Listen to all things burning? How can he dare

To sit with them

When all their silence

Is on fire?”

~ Thomas Merton ~

First-day was particularly trying for me this week. We had a heat problem in the meetinghouse, and we never as a group seemed to decide whether to try to fix the problem or sit in silence. As the problem seemed to be attended to by people who knew what they were doing, I chose to sit, although the cold got to all of us soon and we abbreviated the meeting.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about my own silence. Technically, this whole Spiritual path for me has been about finding my own way, my own journey, and one day in a cold meetinghouse that's too chatty shouldn't matter. It was my expectations that got me in trouble - I expected after a long week to have silence and Spirit and calm, and even in in our social time afterwards I kept getting interrupted and could not hold a meaningful conversation. Thus I left frustrated and angry.

I have been fortunate this year to have carved out some contemplative space and time almost every day. Often, it has been at the meetinghouse. But perhaps that is too "easy" a solution sometimes - spiritual place, Spirit happens. If I am able to carry that peace inside, I should find it wherever I go. Good to consider for the week.

Next week I travel to another meeting, held not in a meetinghouse at all. I will meet new people, and hear of new joys and concerns. In the meantime, I have work commitments this week, a difficult interaction with schooling issues for my daughter, and some eating/lifestyle changes that will take some getting used to. Committee meetings seem to fill the next few weeks as well. Plenty of time to see if I can find and preserve that peaceful space through all the mayhem.

Habits.

(from: Cast All Your Votes For Dancing)

I know the voice of depression

Still calls to you.

I know those habits that can ruin your life

Still send their invitations.

But you are with the Friend now

And look so much stronger.

You can stay that way

And even bloom!

~ Hafiz ~

Been thinking a lot about new year's resolutions this morning. I guess it is the time for that, January 2nd and all... sometimes my strongest resolutions are those that invite me to revisit them daily. Being a good parent, good partner, good friend. Seeing the good in others around me. Daily and constant reminders that do indeed become the "good" habits I need to cultivate. Sometimes it is not in the BIG decisions where we find the magic and space and love for each other on the planet - it is in the little moments. I am resolving this year to become even more aware of those smaller moments, for in them is where I see the "big picture" of my life most clearly!