Daily Dose (Oct 22 – 25)
TUESDAY OCT 22 —
This week, we are learning to practice Rabbi Eizik’s wisdom, that “the place where this treasure can be found is the place on which one stands.” (Martin Buber)
That all sounds well and good, but sometimes where I am standing doesn’t feel treasure worthy.
I do love the TV series, The West Wing.
In an episode of The West Wing, CJ Craig (White House chief of staff) is wired, tense and distracted. Danny (her love interest) shows up, middle of the workday, at her White House office, “to take her for a walk.” She consents (but not without a fight, you know, so much “to do”). On the walk, she fidgets and asks, “So, what was so important, taking this walk.”
He says, “Just to see.”
“Well,” she tells him, “This is not the day for it.”
This made me smile big, because some days I’m with CJ. Sure, I do want to live this moment mindful of the sacred—knowing that this moment is a dwelling for the Divine Presence—but this is not the day for it.
So, tell me… is there a special day for it?
To exacerbate our situation, our western mindset makes living in the present a staged event. You know, staged to be “spiritual.” As if this is something we must orchestrate. Or arrange. And we sit stewing in the juices of our self-consciousness. Am I present? What am I doing right or wrong? All the while, missing the point. Lord have mercy.
And now we’re back to remembering the child that still lives inside. The child that sees the sacred in the ordinary.
The child that relishes the gift of the present.
It’s paradigm shift time. I will give myself wholeheartedly to this day. Without making it a test or beauty pageant.
Before we wish for another life, let us feel this life.
Before we give in to “if only”, let us hear this moment.
Before we trade in this life, for the life we should have, let us taste this life.
And this from The Little Prince, “Grown-ups never understand anything for themselves, and it is tiresome for children to be always and forever explaining things to them.” Saint-Exupéry
WEDNESDAY OCT 23 —
This week, we are learning to practice Rabbi Eizik’s wisdom, that “the place where this treasure can be found is the place on which one stands. (Martin Buber)”
We may love this, but there is no simple list here.
Again, from Martin Buber, “Where is the dwelling of God?” This was the question with which the Rabbi of Kotzk surprised a number of learned men who happened to be visiting him. They laughed at him: “What a thing to ask! Is not the whole world full of His glory?”
Then he answered his own question: “God dwells wherever man lets Him in.”
“This is the ultimate purpose: to let God in. But we can let God in only where we really stand, where we live, where we live a true life. If we maintain holy intercourse with the little world entrusted to us, if we help the holy spiritual substance to accomplish itself in that section of Creation in which we are living, then we are establishing, in this our place, a dwelling for the Divine Presence.”
Let’s give Mary Oliver the final word…
The Gift
Be still, my soul, and steadfast.
Earth and heaven both are still watching
though time is draining from the clock
and your walk, that was confident and quick,
has become slow.
So, be slow if you must, but let
the heart still play its true part.
Love still as once you loved, deeply
and without patience. Let God and the world
know you are grateful. That the gift has been given.
Mary Oliver
THURSDAY OCT 24 —
I’ve been enjoying my days here at Shrine Mont, Orkney Springs, VA, nestled at the base of the Great North Mountain (in the Ridge-and-valley Appalachians). The trees that cover that landscape, unveiling an Autumn pigment pageant, their leaves now saturations of brilliant scarlet and copper.
My Oh My.
It is sit and savor time.
I’ve been telling stories, along with my friends Ed Kilbourne and Martin Townsend, and we’ve been laughing and crying and living out the affirmations (and declarations) with old friends and new, that we are indeed walking one another home.
I didn’t tell them the Rabbi Eizik story, but I could have.
I did tell them that because no one of us is on this journey alone, we are invited to embrace that we can make these declarations because we are friends. And that we find and are energized by love in the very, very ordinary moments.
Let us not forget that. We have the privilege of making a place on this earth for the other to be their very best. To allow another person to shine.
Yes… to let them be reminded; “You are here to be light. Bringing out the God colours of the world.” (The Gospel of Matthew, Eugene H. Peterson)
This matters because we know that this world can be a crazy place. It can chew you up. And more than ever we need sanctuaries, sacred places where we can feel safe. Places of sanctuary that are safe for one another… for friends and family.
And tomorrow I’ll read to them from The Book of Joy, where Archbishop Desmond Tutu offers this blessing, reminding us of the joy of abiding in God’s love:
“Dear Child of God, you are loved with a love that nothing can shake, a love that loved you long before you were created, a love that will be there long after everything has disappeared. You are precious, with a preciousness that is totally quite immeasurable. And God wants you to be like God. Filled with life and goodness and laughter—and joy.
God, who is forever pouring out God’s whole being from all eternity, wants you to flourish. God wants you to be filled with joy and excitement and ever longing to be able to find what is so beautiful in God’s creation: the compassion of so many, the caring, the sharing. And God says, Please, my child, help me. Help me to spread love and laughter and joy and compassion. And you know what, my child? As you do this—hey, presto—you discover joy. Joy, which you had not sought, comes as the gift, as almost the reward for this non-self-regarding caring for others.”
(From The Book of Joy: Lasting Happiness in a Changing World with the Dalai Lama and Desmond Tutu)
FRIDAY OCT 25 —
A Hasidic Rabbi was interrupted by one of his followers while he was tending his garden, “What would you do, rabbi,” the student asked, “if you knew the messiah was coming today?”
Stroking his beard and pursing his lips, the rabbi replied, “Well, I would continue to water my garden.”
Before we wish for another life, let us feel this life.
Before we give in to “if only”, let us hear this moment.
Before we trade in this life, for the life we should have, let us taste this life.
This week, we are learning to practice Rabbi Eizik’s wisdom, that “the place where this treasure can be found is the place on which one stands.” (Martin Buber)
I used to tell the sheep that my garden is my teacher. In the garden I find treasures, moments of serenity (places to rest in gladness), when snapshots, vistas, colors, fragrance makes the world stand still. My urgency fades. This is the value in making rituals (containers where we are available to grace). I’m with May Sarton on this; I spend the first part of every morning wandering the garden and looking for miracles.
So. Here’s our paradigm shift. With our cognitive or cerebral approach, we still see the treasure (of being present) as something to acquire. And when we do that, we miss that the treasure is alive and well, inside us. Now. There is sufficiency even when the well feels dry.
When we see only scarcity, we let anger or blame have its way. We feel raw and at the mercy of. “Fear narrows the little entrance of our heart,” wrote Thomas Merton. “It shrinks up our capacity to love. It freezes up our power to give ourselves.”
Today, let us dig for that treasure “at home”, here in the ground on which we stand… to pause, and in gratitude, savor gladness.
And let us allow that treasure to spill to those around us, in listening, standing with, empathy, kindness and inclusion.
Speaking of treasures: “The goal is a wildly authentic self, a wildly authentic life. We can’t have that unless we allow ourselves to grow, evolve, shed, and inhabit all parts of us. We must recognize that others, too, have those hidden aspects. The goal is to know our authentic selves—the good, the bad, the strong, the scared. We need to work with them all, celebrate them all, and give voice to them all.” Thank you, Maria Shriver.
Prayer for our week…
A Blessing
Blessed be the longing that brought you here and that
quickens your soul with wonder.
May you have the courage to befriend your eternal longing.
May you enjoy the critical and creative companionship of
the question “Who am I?” and may it brighten your longing.
May a secret Providence guide your thought and shelter your feeling.
May your mind inhabit your life with the same sureness
with which your body belongs to the world.
May the sense of something absent enlarge your life.
May your soul be as free as the ever-new waves of the sea.
May you succumb to the danger of growth.
May you live in the neighbourhood of wonder.
May you belong to love with the wildness of Dance.
May you know that you are ever embraced in the kind circle of God.
John O’Donohue
(from Eternal Echoes)
Photo… “I call this one The Magic Hour, An Autumn image for our 90 degree days,” Joe Durepos (Channahon, Illinois)… Thank you Joe… I’m so grateful for your photos, please send them to [email protected]