Category: General Learning

The theologian, guide, and poet Richard Rohr begins.

“Sooner or later, if you are on any classic “spiritual schedule,” some event, person, death, idea, or relationship will enter your life that you simply cannot deal with, using your present skill set, your acquired knowledge, or your strong willpower.”

He goes on, in a paragraph that had me grabbing a cup of coffee, slowing down, and sipping.

“Spiritually speaking, you will be, you must be, led to the edge of your own private resources. At that point you will stumble over a necessary stumbling stone, as Isaiah calls it; or to state it in our language here, you will and you must “lose” at something.”

And he positions further, perhaps from first-hand knowing, and perhaps from many-times witnessing.

“This is the only way that Life-Fate-God-Grace-Mystery can get you to change, let go of your egocentric preoccupations, and go on the further and larger journey. I wish I could say this was not true, but it is darn near absolute in the spiritual literature of the world.”

A bow to these words. Read the full post here on Awakin.org.

I’ve lived a few times within awakening moments, dark nights of the soul, bright lights of the birth. I’ve lived with many wisdom keepers, skilled to see and guide initiations. I’ve learned through many moments, to live from my belly. Surrendering. Again. Glimpsing insight from something beyond me. Again. Bathing in renewal as life has flowed through and around me. Again.

I don’t find that this ends. Life is kind with its “agains.” It has different flavors. Familiar reminders. Generous invitations. And both joyous and reluctant responses to life beyond my skill set, approachable only with an honest belly.

On it goes.

A thx to Richard Rohr today.

The poem below is from Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer. She titles it Reunion. I love her words + images, including, “done swooping for the day.”

I’m glad for words that move the heart, my heart. And for images that make us smile, me smile.

We need our swooping, don’t we. And we humans, we need rest too. If we are lucky, with a sweetheart, or friends. And, essentially, we need our rest within ourselves, with ourselves.

On it all goes.

Reunion
Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer

After the kazoos and champagne and hula hoops,
after the blueberry pie, after the napkins folded
and unfolded and crumpled, after the impromptu
parade on the drive, after the house full of laughter
and music, after the glow sticks, the glittering headbands, 
the mountain of dishes washed and dried and put away 
there was that moment when we sat on the couch,
just the two of us. You held my hand. We said nothing.
Like two swallows, done swooping for the day
who finally enter the nest they have built together, 
snuggling at last on the rim. 

In this context below, “gentle me” is used as a request. As a prayer. As a verb. As an invocation.

My friend Saoirse shared it with several of us a couple of weeks ago. It’s stuck with me. Gentle me. Yes please.

The poem is by American Ted Loder, a UMC pastor and poet and social justice advocate. He died five years ago. He’s also known to have stood for laughter as holy medicine.

His poem, Guide Me Into An Unclenched Moment, is included in this collection.

Enjoy. And thx Saorise.

Guide Me Into An Unclenched Moment
Ted Loder

Gentle me,
Holy One,
into an unclenched moment,
a deep breath,
a letting go
of heavy experiences
of shriveling anxieties
of dead certainties

that, softened by the silence,
surrounded by the light,
and open to mystery,
I may be found by wholeness,
upheld by the unfathomable,
entranced by the simple,
and filled with the joy
that is you.

That’s Flat Head Lake, Montana. As seen, a week ago, from the West Shore State Park & Campground, Site B14. Dana and I stayed there on our return from Canada.

I’ve forever been attracted to big spaces. For one reason, I like and need the feeling of emptying. Being in something vast. Places like this invite it. Maybe even insist.

I heard from a recent participant in my Becoming & Belonging Series that she “took the whole weekend to be lazy.” She was actually describing her version of being empty. She expressed delight. And surprise. And “productivity.”

This language of “lazy” is one to work with. Yup, it’s true that sometimes perhaps we just are lazy. I do well to own that. However, sometimes “lazy” is a misrepresentation of a very fierce and conscious decision to make ourselves part of a bigger picture. Part of a different kind of timing. Learning and productivity is not just found in tenacity (particularly of the mind). Sometimes. But let’s nuance this just a bit — sometimes our tenacity needs to be directed to our emptying. This too, is wildly productive. Insights. Feelings. Rediscovery. Purpose. And, and.

I’m glad for such invitations. And insistences. Thx Flat Head.