Maybe This Is Perfection

 "Failure is something through which we have to learn. So every time you say your mantra and you get distracted, don’t see it as a failure. Just learn from it, and you learn by going back to it. So it’s not about success, it’s about perseverance. It’s not about success, it’s about faithfulness. And that’s how we learn and that’s how we grow. If you are trying to do it just by being perfect, you will exhaust yourself and you will give up. This way you will learn something immensely beneficial."   

Father Laurence Freeman, OSB     

 

This morning I reminded our dog Jack of this very thing. He was not trying to meditate, but rather get on the couch. He is older and sometimes has trouble getting his body and mind aligned to do what he wants. This morning he did not quite make it. He started to walk away, but I called him back, encouraging  him to try again. The second time, he had no trouble. Was it because he knew I was right behind him?  Maybe just trying again helped him focus?  Maybe a bit of both?  I do not know. What I do know is that I, too, often have a similar  struggle.  Yet, what I am slowly learning is that just as there is no such thing as perfection of faith, I am also learning that in my life there really is no such thing as perfection at all. Perfection is God's realm. I am grateful to set that burden down. I can move a little easier, be a little braver, laugh a little more readily.  It is all journey, and it is all a new undertaking. Fortunately, I still have a ways to go. 

 

  

   

image: San Leandro, May 2022      

 

A small group of us gather via Zoom every Wednesday at 4:00 Pacific time for a short period of meditation in the Christian tradition. If you would like to join us, drop me a note to get the link.   

 

Not a Word

 Yesterday I drove Tyler to Kaiser for his follow-up appointment after his cataract surgery. When we arrived, I dropped him off so he could check in. I parked the car and found a chair in the front entryway of the building. I knew Tyler could easily find me there when his appointment was over. I soon settled in, and I appreciated the natural lighting that shone through the glass doors. I had a book with me, but I often set it down to simply watch the people move in and out of the building. Some appeared to be in poor health, and leaned on a companion or a walker for assistance. Others looked to be confused about where they should be. They looked anxiously about seeking direction from somewhere or someone. Fortunately, an information board was close by to help them get their bearings. Those who were coming in to do their morning work were easy to recognize. They wore prominent badges and moved with a sense of assurance of knowing where they were expected to be. Alameda county has a diverse population, so I was not surprised to see a few women wearing beautiful hijabs. Other women had hair that was either in disarray or tucked under a baseball cap. However, one woman, who walked slowly with a walker, had her hair pulled up and back, secured with a beautiful silver clip. Not a hair was out of place. Another older woman had tucked a plastic plumeria blossom in her hair. I remembered the scent of that beautiful flower and I silently thanked her. There were men as well. Some wore clothes that were very tidy. Others, well, not so much. Everyone wore masks. Everyone appeared to have some place to go, even if it was only to return to their car. 

I found it interesting that in the midst of those comings and goings, I was one of the few who was not expected anywhere except right where I was (Really, that is true for all of us.) I was grateful for the reprieve. I was also grateful that author Diana Butler Bass had given me something to think about. In her book, Freeing Jesus, she comments that the English translation of logos in John 1:1, as Word ( "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God")  was actually a poor translation. She writes, "Logos means "ground or speech or expectation... the very ground of divine being, the breath of God, the presence of the holy in and through all things." Having never felt particularly inspired by John 1:1, I was grateful for the reminder that I was sitting in sacredness. I became aware that I was breathing not just my own breath, but the breath of the movement all around me, and of life even beyond the building. In that moment I heard not a word. I knew only life sustaining breath. I also knew that in that breath healing and wholeness could be found.  

  

  

image: plumeria, San Leandro, 2014. 

Non-Searching

 "I suppose it is the completeness of the commitment that frightens us. But commit yourself but once and you will know from your own experience the love that casts out all fear. It takes many people years to come to that moment of commitment. Yet whether it takes years, months, weeks, or days is of no importance. All that is of importance is that each of us, as best we can in these earthen vessels, is as open as we can be to the essential truth of union."    

John Main, Silence and Stillness in Every Season   

image: an aging camillia blossom, January 2022   

 

Gentle Guidance

 "The journey is never dull if we make it in faith. The stillness is never static. And over it all, the open-armed, all-accepting embrace of Christ presides. He is the gate, the goal and the whole way. Our lives are soaked in Christ. There is nowhere he is not." 

This morning, at least for now, I finished reading Web of Silence by Laurence Freeman. I want to share these concluding words of the book for in them I find a universal truth. By all means, if you want to substitute another word for Christ, do so. If the pronouns bother you, change them. I think sometimes we get too wrapped up in such details. Fortunately, meditation moves us beyond words and concepts, leading us to understand that our words are meant to reveal a path. They are merely  an invitation to travel together for a while.  Let us go gently, grateful that our compass is Love.   

 

Blessings on your journey. 

   

image:  Villa Maria del Mar, October 2021 . This is certainly not a perfect photograph, but it always makes me smile. 

 

The Generous Gardner

 My neighbor closed her Chinese restaurant a few years ago. When she was running the restaurant, I would generally see her when one or both of us were in our cars. Now, I often see her either on my morning walks or in her garden. The garden is a new endeavor, and she has done a lovely job. Because of this sighting yesterday, I now think  of her as a generous gardener; one who leaves a little something for the bees in January.   

May we all be so generous with the life that is all around us.    

Today is Epiphany. Let us watch for the wise ones as they pass through. If we pay attention, Wisdom will always share her gifts.   

        

"It is very difficult to try to determine what it is that makes a person want to meditate. It has puzzled me over the years. There seem to be so many reasons why people start to meditate. But I think there is only one reason that keeps people meditating. That I think we could describe as a growing commitment to reality."  

Father John Main, OSB   

     

 

  

image: San Leandro, January 2022. I had to lean over my neighbor's fence to take this picture so it is not perfectly composed. The bee would not be still, and neither would the dog.  

The Hermitage

"Every human heart is a hermitage, if we care to enter and find ourselves there in union with all. In solitude friend, foe and stranger are equally known in love."  

Web of Silence, Laurence Freeman, OSB  

 

Learning to meditate is learning to love. Father Freeman also writes, "In that stillness we learn the language of silence, the 'language of cosmic adoration' as Gandhi called it. Like all languages it is best learned by total immersion." 

 It is time to re-learn how to speak in our mother tongue.

Blessings on your journey.     

  

Meditation in the Christian Tradition is held on Zoom every Wednesday at 4:00 p.m. Pacific Time.  Contact me if you would like the link.  

 image:  San Leandro, June, 2021

When All Is Said and Done

 Laurence Freeman's book, Web of Silence is a  compilation of  12 "letters to meditators," and is a  thought provoking read.  I love that as our small group of meditators continue to come together on a weekly basis, I am discovering a sense of being part of something much larger than I was previously envisioning.  While I have often said that we are connected to one another in surprising ways, my sense of this connection is deepening.  We are simply, and wonderfully, a part of God's greater more. 

Yesterday, after our meditation,  we talked of learning acceptance and surrender. I know some people find the idea of surrender uncomfortable for it brings to mind all sorts of frightening images. Yet, if we do not learn to surrender to our lives in and to this moment, we cannot surrender our lives to God.  Faith is truly a come as you are journey. I can't take this journey, which is a journey to God, in any other body, in any other mind, but the one I have today.  At times, I think I am woefully inadequate. However, I must keep reminding myself that God never sees any of us as inadequate. As the psalmist says, we are "fearfully and wonderfully made."*

Because I do believe that we are part of a great web, I was not too surprised when I opened Father Freeman's book this morning and discovered the following passage concerning surrender:  

Meditation in this Christian perspective is an act of trust and surrender. It is empowered by the core Christian intuition that our spiritual journey matters deeply, ultimately not only to ourselves but to God to whom we are travelling. Our act of surrender, then, does not diminish us. Only partial surrenders humiliate. The all-trusting surrender of egotism in the shamelessness of mediation leaves us not less dignified but more humble, more real; and more at peace with ourselves because we are more at one with our true selves. 

If you have ever spent some time at the bedside of someone who is at peace while their physical journey is coming to a close, you may have witnessed the peace of such  reconciliation.  I have experienced  that peace filling a room and the hearts of those who drew near. Every time we sit down to our practice, we are practicing that art. January 6, 2021 would have been a very different day had the instigators learned that God is not found in the burnt offerings of  ideologies, but rather in our surrender to the great love in which we are held. Only then, can we find our freedom. Only then, can we live out our part in God's greater good.  

 

*Psalm 139:14

image: San Leandro, October 2021. I love the fact that the flowers of this tropical milkweed resemble a choir singing joyously of life.  

Group meditation in the Christian tradition is held most Wednesdays at 4:00 p.m. via Zoom. You are welcome to join us. 

       

Yet Again

 I woke up yesterday morning thinking of this poem by Rumi and decided to share it with those I meditate with. So much of life consists of starting over, trying yet again one more thousandth time.  Let us remember that we travel with one another. We have a place in this great caravan.  As we journey, let us remember to pause and rest in God's love.

Ours Is Not A Caravan of Despair

Come, come, whoever you are.

Wanderer, worshiper, lover of leaving.
It doesn’t matter.
Ours is not a caravan of despair.
Come, even if you have broken your vows a thousand times.
Come, yet again, come, come.

— Rumi    

  

photograph: San Leandro, November 2021. These leaves  look like they are floating, but they are being held by some netting placed at the foot of the tree. There is a lesson there for us all. We, too, are held. 

Experiencing Place

"Faith is the highway of the spirit. Every act of faith we make is an uncovering of the labyrinth of spirit. Belief, sundered from faith, leads to a maze of mirrors, a series of infinite regressions, the egotistical maze. Mazes lead to dead-ends and the more we get lost the more we panic. Labyrinths only ask us to follow faithfully their strange but ultimately symmetrical loops and bends in order to lead us home to the centre."  

   

Laurence Freeman, OSB, First Sight, The Experience of Faith, Continuum 2011, p. 14     

   

To cling to those ideas that we tenaciously call beliefs, leads to separation. Separation is indeed a dead-end. One thing about dead-ends though, is that we can usually turn around and go back out. Faith allows us to maneuver, sometimes with some dexterity, our way to love. In yesterday's group meditation, we discussed the November 3 entry in  John Main's book, Silence and Stillness in Every Season: "What we think of as our 'centre' is too often an illusion of the self-reflecting ego, somewhere we like to take up our stand and observe God at work in us. But this can never be the way.  The challenges that face us point to the mystery of union we are summoned to enter. But we find our way into this mystery of union with others and with God only when we reach in ourselves that place where Jesus experiences His oneness with the Father. That place where he prayed, 'I in them and Thou in me, that they may become perfectly one.'"*  

  

In other words, center (or centre) is not some private dwelling place, but rather a place of union with all.  For there Christ (or whatever sacred entity you worship) is. We are not called to ourselves but to the universal self.  We are that related. 

    

* I think Father Main threw in that word perfectly.  The translations I have seen of John 17:21 read, "That they may all be one." Even the King James version reads, "That they all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me." However, so far, I have not seen Laurence Freeman or John Main cite what translations they are referencing when quoting scripture.   

       

photograph: San Leandro (just a block from our house), November, 2021 

Mantras

 I have finished, for the second time, Laurence Freeman's book, Jesus, the Teacher Within. I highly recommend it, whether you are a meditator or not.  It is a beautiful, thoughtful  and inspiring book. 

I will say that my Lenten decision this year to practice meditation in the Christian tradition is beginning to bring some subtle gifts to my life.  I worry  less and impatience is slowly loosening its grip. I am trusting my path a little more because I sense Jesus' presence there.  I am grateful and humbled. 

I  want to share what Laurence Freeman included in his book about mantras. I find having a mantra a helpful navigation tool, and I think this must  be generally true regardless of what meditation tradition is practiced, or if one does not practice at all. We all have those moments in our lives that threaten to upend us. Slowly repeating a mantra can help bring us back to our center, back to the Christ within us. There, we can find compassion and love that is almost always needed, either for ourselves or for others.  Here, Lawrence Freeman is quoting John Main's book, Word into Silence:   

 

"We usually begin by saying the mantra, that it seems as though we are speaking it with our mind silently, somewhere in our head. But as we make progress the mantra becomes more familiar, less of a stranger, less of an intruder in our consciousness. We find that less effort is required to persevere in saying it throughout the time of our meditation. Then it seems we are not so much speaking it in our minds as sounding it in our heart, and this is the stage that we describe as the mantra becoming rooted in our hearts..."* 

I think it is important for us to remember we all have mantras running through our heads that often we are not even aware of. These are the habitual thoughts that propel us into our lives. Many of these soundings are not positive nor helpful.  Too often, they lead to distraction and a sense of isolation, rather than illumination and a sense of union. 

If you would like to meditate with others on Zoom, but 4:00 p.m. on Wednesday does not work for you, drop me a note. Advent is on the horizon, and adding an evening session so we can come together to meditate in that beautiful season sounds wonderful to me. Meditating with others is an experience I cannot yet put into words. Perhaps it is simply that when we come together in silence, we can actually experience that yes, God is love, and we are knitted together in wonderful ways. I believe this is how we can bring peace to our world: one breath, one syllable at a time. 

 

And this I know in the secret silence of my heart

Where your awareness dwells 

And embroiders me into the fabric of the physical world 

Out of the slender thread only your eyes can see 

Recorded by your hand into the book of the world

All the days of recordable life 

Even before I live them   

 

from Psalm 139, Opening to You, 

Zen-Inspired Translations of the Psalms, 

Norman Fischer      

  

photograph: Oakland, October 2021   

 

*Jesus the Teacher Within, Laurence Freeman, Continuum International Publishing Group, 2000, page 222  

  

     

    

Relating

I needed to see the post below about forgiveness this morning. Maybe every morning. Father Freeman also reminds me that the real purpose of meditation is to let the meditation usher in a whole new way of being. "It helps us see that the place we should look for the fruits of meditation is not the meditation period itself - what happens (or doesn't) but in the manner and quality of our lives, particularly in our relationships." * We see this in Jesus, who would go to a mountain top, or across the lake, or into the desert. He always returned to the people. For most of us, this is our call. He also reminded people to forgive. Forgiveness and healing go hand in hand. 

'So our first responsibility, if we want to be in relationship and we want that relationship to be a healthy one and a healing one and a caring one for the people we are in relationship with, our first responsibility to others is to be as healthy and as happy as we can be ourselves. And that involves not being too hard on ourselves when we fail. In other words, we incorporate the sense of failure into our practice and learn from failure." **

 

   

   

*Jesus the Teacher Within, Laurence Freeman, copyright 2003, p. 199   

 

**Laurence Freeman, OSB, World Community for Christian Meditation,  Daily Digest, October 8, 2021 

image: San Leandro, September 2021   

Hope

 "Hope is the aspiration to be totally at home. It is the strongest aspiration of our being. The word virtue means 'strength'. The virtue of hope is a strength of spirit. But to be virtuous does not mean only to do the right things and be a respectable person. To be virtuous means to be strong in the Spirit, to have accepted the gift of the Spirit's strength." *  

  

Although I have read all 159 pages of the book, The Selfless Self, I think it is a book that I will never conclude. Reading it has deepened my meditation practice, and my meditation practice touches every aspect of my life. In addition, meditating reminds me that we are eternally held in love. This is a gift I gratefully accept.  

 

The Selfless Self, Laurence Freeman, OSB, p. 152 

photograph: San Leandro, August 2016  

Right Sizing

 The most important teaching that I am taking away from this time of  pandemic is the belief that Christ resides in each and every person I meet. Those of a different faith tradition will call this sacred meeting by another name, and I celebrate that. There are, of course, many who simply cannot believe such a notion. However, that most certainly does not mean that my awareness should be diminished.  Quite the contrary. 

Meditation and prayer help us to sweep out our sacred temples. "Meditation is about the radical Christian conversion, a change from being people of theory, taster of ideas, to people of experience, prophets of certainty.  This no doubt sounds rather arrogant. But in the course of that process, which does not happen overnight and yet we can begin whenever we wish, all arrogance is burned away and we are compelled to become extraordinarily humble."*

I have also learned that I have grown too accustomed to thinking in terms of a "mustard seed" size of faith.  On Thursday, Rabbi Yael Levy shared with her class what she calls, "Verses for Protection and Rescue".  She readily admits her translations do include some creativity, and I deeply appreciate her work. She also encourages us to go and ahead and struggle with the more difficult Psalms, while taking  what is meaningful for us at any given time, even if it is only a short verse. The Psalm that I am carrying with me this week is Psalm 61:4 which Rabbi Yael translates as: "You are my refuge, a tower of strength." I am  grateful for this reminder that God can never be diminished, no matter how small the faith. Therefore, my  faith can remain steady and even increase. This is true regardless of whom and what I must face, as long as I remember to make room for Divine Presence and Source.  We are all  capable of living into sizeable, yes, even towering love and courage. 

 

    

*The Selfless Self, Father Laurence Freeman, OSB, page 55-56

photograph: Passion fruit flower, San Leandro, June 2021. I have never seen an all white blossom before. I did not have time to investigate further, as there was a man armed with a leaf blower coming our way. He was stirring up an amazing amount of dust. He seemed determined to keep going, so I felt Jack and I needed to move along.      

Universal Resonance

 I have returned to the book The Selfless Self by Laurence Freeman, OSB. Father Freeman studied and served with Father John Main to create the World  Community of Christian Meditation. He continues to serve as the director. I found the following passage to be insightful. It concerns a man who had been meditating for a few years "with the ordinary lack of 'experiences' that accompany the silent, ongoing change in our selves and lives." Then he was diagnosed with cancer at a time when he thought there was nothing seriously wrong with his health.  Father Freeman writes: 

"[The diagnosis]  shocked and stunned him. But then, at that very moment, he heard the mantra. The mantra began to sound and it rose in his heart with wonderful peace and certainty. From that moment until the time he was speaking, he understood more deeply  John Main's teaching that, through the mantra, we learn to hand over control to Christ. He felt every day, more deeply, the presence and the guiding spirit of Christ with him."   Father Freeman said it reminded him of a phrase that John Main wrote in one of his last letters in which he was describing his own illness and pain. He ended the letter with, "But it doesn't matter, it is all the Lord."     

The man would need to undergo several operations. After one procedure, he felt that his life and energy was so low that his death was a possibility.  Yet, in the recovery room, he again heard the mantra. However,  this time it did not seem to be arising from his own heart, but rather from the heart of all believers, "a universal resonance."

 Meditation is not about perfection. It is about the day to day return to the practice of opening our hearts to Christ.  Eventually, at some unknown and unexpected time, our very lives become imbued with this love.  There is no magic about mantras. A mantra helps pause our usual train of thought which can often be trite and repetitive, and can even be harmful to ourselves and those around us.  Once we become aware of these "tapes" running through our mind, we can begin to draw our attention away from them. They will fade, but yes, it takes time.  This is the "silent ongoing change" mentioned above. 

We are, and we are becoming. Christ be our light.    

 

The Selfless Self, Laurence Freeman, 1989, Darton, Longman and Todd, London, p. 128.    

   

Meditation via Zoom is held every Wednesday at 7:30 p.m., Pacific Time. Send me a note if you would like to participate. Yes, even on Zoom we feel the presence of one another welcoming Christ into our hearts.   Together, we sit in silence together for 25 minutes.  A short discussion often follows, but you are welcome to leave at any time.  

   

photograph:  Oakland, May 2021

There Is Only Light

I began my morning meditation with this thought from Eknath Easwaran: 

"So when we see someone seated in a corner with closed eyes, completely absorbed in meditation, it is wise to remember that he or she is not just a friend or relative, but someone through whom the Lord is beginning to do his work."*  

 About ten minutes into my meditation time, construction began on our streets.  Large trucks rolled in. The sound of brakes and shifting gears filled  the air as the drivers had to back up and go forward several times to get into position. Then the jack hammers arrived. It actually seemed rather humorous, because my own mind is so chatty. However this is a lot of external noise for 7:00 a.m.  As I continued to sit, I wondered where God might be in all of this construction and racket.  Almost immediately, the beautiful Psalm 139 came to mind: 

"Where could I go to get away from your spirit? 

Where could I go to escape your presence?

If I went up to heaven, 

you would be there. 

If I went down to the grave, 

you would be there too! 

If I could fly on the wings of dawn, 

stopping to rest only 

on the far side of the ocean -

even there your hand would guide me, 

even there your strong hand 

would hold me tight."

Psalm 139:7-10 (CEB)   

 

Meditation is not just about retreating to serene places, as much as many of us love to do that. We must learn to carry our serenity with us because the world will always be the world and we are of it. I am grateful for this morning's time of sitting in the Eternal Presence.  I was reminded that jack hammers and the human mind are no match for eternity. 

Today, I will visit two communities that SpiritCare serves. I would appreciate your prayers as we discern how to move forward. We cannot really go back to "the way things were". That is an illusion. Yet, God beckons. May we respond with hearts open and steadfast love. Your support and love are invaluable and I thank you.

 

*Like a Thousand Suns, The Bhagavad Gita for Daily Living, Volume 2, page 66

Eknath Easwaran has been a steadying influence for me during the pandemic. His biography of Gandhi helped me understand that Gandhi was able to do the work he did because he fell in love with the teachings of The Bhagavad Gita which Gandhi lovingly referred to as "Mother Gita" - truly the Living Word for him. Easwaran's translation of the Gita is beautiful. Easwaran passed in 1999, but I am certain I have dreamed of him and it is a rare day when I do not read some of his writings. 

   

photograph:  San Leandro, May 2021. I call this, "There Is Only Light." The shadows seem impossible, but there they are. Yes, this is our journey as well. 

 

photograph:  San Leandro, May 2021. I call this, "There Is Only Light." The shadows seem impossible, but there they are. Yes, this is our journey as well. 

The Narrow Gate

We live in a society that places a high value on "keeping our options open." The risk of missing something just seems too great. Yet, eventually, we do have to narrow our choices. This is one lesson of the pandemic when all of us experienced limited choices. In Matthew 7:13 we are told that Jesus said, "Go in through the narrow gate. The gate that leads to destruction is broad and the road wide, so many people enter through it. But the gate that leads to life is narrow and the road difficult, so few people find it."  

I love this passage, but I also struggle with it. I believe in God's world there is room for all and that we will all find the way.  Yet, I also realize we must be willing to be guided, and our notion that we can do what we want with no consequence is not a reliable compass.  This morning I came across this passage that helps me understand the narrow gate a little more:  

"In meditation practice, we neither hold the mind very tightly nor let it go completely. If we try to control the mind, then its energy will rebound back on us. If we let the mind go completely, then it will become very wild and chaotic. So we let the mind go, but at the same time there is some discipline involved. The techniques used in the Buddhist tradition are extremely simple. Awareness of bodily movement, breath and one's physical situation are techniques common to all traditions. The basic practice is to be present, right here. The goal is also the technique. Precisely being in this moment, neither suppressing nor wildly letting go, but being precisely aware of what you are.  Breath, like bodily existence, is a neutral process which has no "spiritual" connotations. We simply become mindful of its natural functioning. This is called shamatha practice. With this practice we begin to tread the hinayana or narrow path. This is not to say that the hinayana approach is simplistic or narrow minded. Rather, because the mind is so complicated, so exotic, craving all sorts of entertainment constantly, the only way to deal with it is to channel it into a disciplined path without sidetracks." *

In Christian meditation, our intent is to sit with the Christ within.  Therefore, we can trust the destination and the narrow gate that we must continually move through.  Truly they are one and they are beautiful.  This morning I meditated with a mockingbird who is still reciting his whole repertoire.  I cannot control him, but I can practice letting him be.  If I can let him be, then I can let myself simply be as well. If I can simply be, I can be peace in this world. We must not fear discipline, but allow ourselves to be embraced by it. Discipline is not punishment, it is our gateway to God.   

   

*Chogyam Trungpa, The Myth of Freedom and the Way of Meditation, pages 2-3.  

 

  

photograph: San Leandro, February 2015. I am beginning to sort through the almost 9,000 photographs on my phone.  So far, I have deleted three. It is a fun project.  

   

If you would like to join us for group meditation, and have Wednesdays at 7:30 p.m. available, drop me a note and I will send you the Zoom link.  

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