Daily Dose (Sept 24 – 27)

TUESDAY SEPT 24 —

“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.” (Ingrid Goff-Maidoff)
Yes. And this week we remember, that all the while we are looking for a revelation or a fix, we miss the flower, and the healing restorative power.

When people visited my garden on Vashon Island, they asked for advice on their own backyard Shangri-las. Some are starting from scratch. Others are working with a garden they have had for years. Some have lots of space. Others have two or three whiskey barrels on their patio. (Like I do now.)
“There’s always room for one more plant,” is my best advice, stealing from Oscar Wilde’s reflection, “nothing succeeds like excess.”
Of course, once given the opportunity to dispense such acumen, I decide not to stop. The preacher in me is in full gear. “Besides,” I tell them, “Good taste is definitely overrated. Because you can’t really make a mistake in the garden. Honestly, if you don’t like the way something turns out, you can always move it. That’s part of the fun, and the wonder.” Which is about the time I usually spot some clump of an unnamed aster that has run amok, doing my best to resist the urge to start whacking at it with my spade.
And therein lies the temptation. As if with “a fix”, we can ultimately “get it right” (whether it’s our garden or faith or prayer life or emotional well-being).
Okay… we enjoyed the flower… are we done yet?
Or could it be that we are suffering from an excessive dose of self-consciousness? Feeling the glare of that third party in our heads demanding that we dance to one particular tune, or else. Some of us capitulate and dance. Some of us snap and kill the music, all the while looking over our shoulders just to see if they notice.
It may be that we miss the point that our spiritual nature is enhanced precisely when, for these precious moments, we are able to shake that voice and find ourselves knee-deep in the colors, smells, and emotions of the day.
What does it mean to rest in beauty?
Not tidiness, beauty… the sacrament of the present moment?
It is a gentle healing restorative reset button, about what truly matters.
It’s not been easy for so many, tempests carrying discomfort and pain, and our expectations (plans) in disarray. And yet, is it possible?
Maybe unexpected flowers inviting us and allowing for the sacrament of the present moment.
Even in the midst.
And I wonder. Does it sometimes take “disarray” for us to pay attention?  

WEDNESDAY SEPT 25 —

“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.” (Ingrid Goff-Maidoff)
This bears repeating: all the while we are looking for a revelation or a fix, we miss the flower, and the healing restorative power.

There is no doubt: Fixes and revelations and life in a box, are indeed alluring. But I do know this to be true: when I require certainty (tidiness or resolution), it is easy to be drained, and I will most assuredly miss the moment, the sacred, the serendipitous, the delightful, and the unfeigned. Or, in the words of Paul Tournier, I spend my entire life indefinitely preparing to live.
When I lead retreats about Sanctuary (the permission to pause, to do nothing), people get it. You know, the need to let our souls catch up with our bodies. And then they ask, “Can you please give us the specifics? I mean, if we’re going to sit still, what is the requisite list? Because if I’m going to slow down, I want to be good at it! In fact, I want to excel at Sabbath.”
And this temptation is not just confined to faith and religion. I read this exchange in one of my garden magazines.
Q. I’m considering converting my lawn to a wildflower meadow. Can you suggest any wildflowers and provide some pointers on how to grow and maintain wildflowers?
A. You might want to check with your local zoning regulations to make sure you are permitted to convert your lawn to a meadow before you go to the labor and expense. Many communities have restrictions as to how tall grass is permitted to grow.

Lord help us. Who knew that creating a pageant of indiscriminate beauty required a committee vote. (Truth be told, sadly, such regulations can set up shop in our own heart, with their pestering “can’ts” and “shouldn’ts”.)
And yet… there is something comforting about the regulations. It’s as if we don’t want the moment without an ability to appraise it. (Who knows where the world would be if we all had tall grass…)

“Anything will give up its secrets if you love it enough. Not only have I found that when I talk to the little flower or to the little peanut they will give up their secrets, but I have found that when I silently commune with people they give up their secrets also—if you love them enough.” George Washington Carver

THURSDAY SEPT 26 —

“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.” (Ingrid Goff-Maidoff)
While we are looking for a revelation or a fix, we too easily miss the flower, and the healing restorative power.
And this we know: If we miss the flower, something is absent, meaning we are disconnected from being present or attentive. Because we may be carrying a wee bit too much distraction; say hurry or busyness or worry or fear or selective blindness.

Two traveling monks reached a river where they met an attractive young woman waiting to cross. Wary of the current, she asked if they would be willing to carry her. One of the monks hesitated, but the other promptly picked her up into his arms, transported her across the river, and put her down, safely on the other bank. She thanked him and went on her way.
As the monks walked toward the monastery, one brooded, stewing in the toxic elixir of self-righteousness and envy. After an hour, unable to hold his silence, he spoke. “Brother, our spiritual training teaches us to avoid any contact with women, but you picked her up in your arms, held her very close and carried her!”
“Brother,” the second monk replied, “That is all true. But on the other side of the river I set her down. It sounds to me as if you are still carrying her.”
This is a story about how we can be (every single one of us) owned or possessed by the things we carry. We live with an absorbed willful blindness, seeing only what we want to see, and our spirit is tied up into knots. So. What does it mean to let go of those things we carry?

This from a SM friend did my heart good; an invitation poem by Becky Hemsley.
“Put down the bag of worries that you are carrying forward with you into this new day.
And set down the sack of regrets that you’ve been dragging along behind you for as long as you can remember.
It is all so heavy.
And carrying it so far for so long is crushing you.
The worries are a future that may not happen and the regrets are a past that is gone.
And you are not there.
You are here, in the present.
Don’t be pulled so far backwards or forwards that you forget to live here.
Don’t be kept so paralysed by fear of the future and pieces of the past that you avoid the now.
So even if it’s only for a short while,
even if it’s only for a moment.
Put it down.
Put it all down.”
(Becky Hemsley 2024)

Our thoughts for friends and family in the path of Hurricane Helene. Please stay safe and be on the lookout for those who will need help and care.

FRIDAY SEPT 27 —

“God spoke today in flowers, and I, who was waiting on words, almost missed the conversation.” (Ingrid Goff-Maidoff)
While we are looking for a revelation or a fix, we too easily miss the flower, and the healing restorative power to feed our soul.

For starters, we can let go of our wiring that sees any endeavor (or encounter) as only a transaction, or tactical devise to “improve” one’s life, propelled to best in class. A need to perform or achieve attracts fear-based or self-interested people. But let us never forget, life calls for lovers.
Franciscan teacher John Duns Scotus (1266–1308) helps here. He tells us that God did not create genus and species. God only created “this-ness,” (in Latin haecceity). He said that until we can experience each thing in its specific “thisness,” we will not easily experience the joy and ubiquity of Divine Presence.
What my son taught me while savoring a cinnamon twist, “Dad, this is the life”. Thisness; to embrace (and be embraced by) the sacrament of the present moment, the here-and-now in all its ordinariness and particularity. In other words, I can’t be present in general. I’m invited to be present to this person—or this flower—or this conversation or event or conundrum. Right here, right now.

I love John Muir’s reframe about hiking. “I don’t like either the word or the thing,” he wrote, “People ought to saunter in the mountains—not hike! Do you know the origin of that word ‘saunter?’ It’s a beautiful word. Away back in the Middle Ages people used to go on pilgrimages to the Holy Land, and when people in the villages through which they passed asked where they were going, they would reply, ‘A la sainte terre,’ ‘To the Holy Land.’ And so, they became known as sainte-terre-ers or saunterers. Now these mountains are our Holy Land, and we ought to saunter through them reverently, not ‘hike’ through them.”

So, here’s the deal: Thisness invites savoring, and gives birth to wholeheartedness, joy, empathy, compassion and connection. In the sacrament of the present, fear and striving do not own us, and we welcome our imperfect parts.

As I write this, Helene is currently a major Category 3 hurricane with wind speeds of 120 mph. And is expected to make landfall on Florida’s Big Bend this evening, bringing the risk of devastating damage. Let us be vigilant and watchful for those who made need help or care. We are on this journey together. 

Prayer for our week…
May the blessing of light be on you–
light without and light within.
May the blessed sunlight shine on you like a great peat fire,
so that stranger and friend may come and warm himself at it.
And may light shine out of the two eyes of you,
like a candle set in the window of a house,
bidding the wanderer come in out of the storm.
And may the blessing of the rain be on you,
may it beat upon your Spirit and wash it fair and clean,
and leave there a shining pool where the blue of Heaven shines,
and sometimes a star.
And may the blessing of the earth be on you,
soft under your feet as you pass along the roads,
soft under you as you lie out on it, tired at the end of day;
and may it rest easy over you when, at last, you lie out under it.
May it rest so lightly over you that your soul may be out from under it quickly;
up and off and on its way to God.
And now may the Lord bless you,
and bless you kindly. Amen.
Old Scottish Blessing

Photo… “Hello Terry, The end of the first day of Fall. The sky tonight in Onalaska, WI exploded in purples and mauve after the sun had settled down below the horizon. Such a beautiful display of God’s artistry. Feel free to share these.” Sue Sieger… Thank you Sue… I’m so grateful for your photos, please send them to [email protected]