Traveling

Yesterday evening, on the ten mile drive I make to attend a yoga class, I sensed I was witnessing more aggressive driving than usual. This drive does not take me on a freeway, but rather close to our small downtown area, which can be congested at certain times. I wondered if some of this driving was a by-product of "lotto fever" - the anticipation of great wealth, and the promise of being able to leave the mundaneness of others behind.  Then, on my way home, I paused as a light was turning yellow because I was not certain I was in the correct lane. There has been a lot of construction and temporary lane changes at this corner, and I was approaching it from a different direction and at night.  The driver behind me sounded his or her horn, letting me know that I was in the way.  This driver was not at all in favor of pausing, and I can imagine the frustration that was experienced during the wait for that great beacon of freedom, the green light, to shine once more. 

  

During my retreat last week, I was given a copy of "Welcoming Prayer, Consent on the Go" compiled by the The Contemplative Life Program.  It is described as a "40 day companion for learning, refreshing or deepening a Welcoming Prayer practice, an embodied practice of YES for everyday life."  I am enjoying this devotional, and am grateful to be reminded of the beautiful practice of being open to God's presence, regardless of what is going on (including red lights and slow drivers).  Day 3 happens to be about "afflictive emotions," those overreactions that really are not appropriate for the current situation. When these emotions flare, we can be sure that  our egos are demanding their due.       

 

We often get in one another's way.  Yet, what may be more important is to recognize is that we get in our own way.  We stumble on our habitual thinking, get frustrated, and look for someone or something to blame. Then it is just a short step to begin seeing ourselves as somehow separate from the life around us.  Yesterday when I offered an elder Communion, she started to cry, saying that lately she had been a poor Christian. Somehow, she felt separate from the rest of us who were faltering just as much as she was. I gently reminded her she was loved, and yes, the invitation was indeed for her. She eventually accepted the gift of reconciliation being offered.  Her acceptance was a gift for us all. We could heal together.     

 

 Holy One, give us the courage to think of ourselves neither as good Christians nor poor ones.  Help us to simply take one more breath, one more step, and continue the journey in love.      

 

Let us travel gently today.