Definitely That Kind of Day

 It is certainly that kind of day here in the East Bay. No, the photograph is not of a peony, but rather a blooming tree that I call the sunny side up tree. I love the golden heart in the center: a glimpse of the soul springing from the essence of God's love.  May all humanity know we, too, can shine with this love. We only have to be willing to let ourselves bloom.   

   

Today

If ever there were a spring day so perfect,
So uplifted by a warm intermittent breeze

That it made you want to throw
Open all the windows in the house

And unlatch the door to the canary’s cage,
Indeed, rip the little door from its jamb,

A day when the cool brick paths
And the garden bursting with peonies

Seemed so etched in sunlight
That you felt like taking

A hammer to the glass paperweight
On the living room end table,

Releasing the inhabitants
From their snow-covered cottage

So they could walk out,
Holding hands and squinting

Into this larger dome of blue and white,
Well, today is just that kind of day.

~ Billy Collins

First Sip 

image: San Leandro, on the last day of May, 2022

Just in Time

I do struggle with self-care some. It is not that I do not practice meditation or yoga or walking. Sometimes I forget to do things just because I enjoy them. However, yesterday Tyler and I drove to Inverness to have dinner with friends. I shall remember for quite awhile that bowl of blueberry ice cream topped with a tiny flower. A beautiful outing and a wonderfully peaceful drive home.  On Saturday, we took Jack on a short walk in the East Bay Hills.  I shall try to keep these practices of going out just because. 

   

"Some days it feels like a foreign language
I'm asked to practice, with new words
for happiness, work, and love. I'm still learning
how to say: a cup of tea for no reason,
what to call the extra honey I drizzle in,
how to label the relentless urge to do more
and more as useless. And how to translate
the heart's pounding message when it comes:
enough, enough. This morning, I search for words
to capture the glimmering sun as it lifts
above the mountains, clouds already closing in
as fat droplets of rain darken the deck.
I'm learning to call this stillness self-care too,
just standing here, as goldfinches scatter up
from around the feeder like broken pieces
of bright yellow stained-glass, reassembling
in the sheltering arms of a maple."

~ James Crews

This poem came to me through First Sip. This information was included: 

"This poem can be found in the lovely new poetry anthology The Path to Kindness: Poems of Connection and Joy, edited by James Crews."   

image:  I love James Crews' description of goldfinches. I have no photographs of goldfinches, but this morning's light on the nashtursims was ephemeral and quite beautiful.  I call it May Light.    

The Expanding Universe That Is Us

 When I read the following passage early Easter morning, I felt the stirring of a deepening understanding of Easter. I had no doubt that  that resurrection is ongoing. I have always believed that,  but yesterday I absorbed it at the cellular level.  We are not celebrating just an ancient story, we are celebrating the Christ who is always with us and who continually urges us to expand. I usually do not wear a robe when I preach, but for Easter I certainly do. It was a blessing to don my white robe and red stole with a white dove that the San Lorenzo church gave me a few years ago.  I felt amazingly light and light-filled. I knew only love. 

 Blessings to you this Easter Monday. May you, too, sense your freedom as you read this passage from Silence and Stillness in Every Season by John Main. The text originally appeared in his book, Moment of Christ.     

   

Our Christian life is not just a question of finding a way of getting through our lives. Every word of the New Testament suggests to us that it is of supreme importance that we live our lives in a state of continuous expansion, expansion of heart and expansion of Spirit, growing in love and becoming more firmly rooted in God. Each of us has to understand our potential, that we are an expanding universe, and so each of us possesses the potential for an energy-expansion that is not less than infinite.     

   

image:  San Leandro, April 2016    

  

We gather via Zoom every Wednesday at 4:00 p.m to meditate in the Christian tradition.  Drop me a note if you would like to join us!

    

A Good Friday Dream

In this morning's dream a friend and I somehow managed to get locked in a BART station at night. In the dream I never see this friend clearly,  but I know we arrived at the station together. I do not know where we had been or where we wanted to go. I do not know how we came to be in such a predicament, but we were quite anxious about it. We kept looking for an exit, but all were locked.  I looked out of one barred exit and could see a man on the steps, appearing to be sleeping. I called out, but my voice could not rouse him. At that point I did not know where my friend was. Do I look for her or do I continue to look for an exit? My anxiety increased. I then saw a young woman walking on the street above. I called out to her, asking for help. She came down the short flight of stairs and walked through a side door. At that moment I did not think about how she had walked through a door that I thought was locked, but I did walk up the stairs with her and thanked her for her help. Grateful to be outside, I thought I would simply go on my way, but I then remembered that I did know where my friend was. I went back down the short flight of stairs past the man who still had not awakened. As I walked through the door, I realized that in the brief amount of time when I was outside, a small cafe had been set up, and people were eating and having their morning coffee. Others were going down another set of stairs to get to the trains that would take them to their destinations. It was then that I realized that I had been worrying over nothing. All I really needed to do was patiently wait for the dawn. I then woke up. 

In a recent post, recording artist Carrie Newcomer mentioned a beautiful Quaker phrase: "Proceed as the way opens." This dream is a good example of the frustration and anxiety that occurs when that wise way of discerning is ignored. Most of us at one time or another have felt trapped in what feels like a tomb with no way out. In those times, it can be hard to trust. We think surely there must be something we can do to allow a quick exit. Sometimes yes, that is possible. However, usually not. This is one of the lessons of Holy Week. Jesus did not fly up that hill and soar to resurrection. He had to go, step by step. This is also a great lesson of meditation. We sit in silence, knowing breath by breath we must do the same.  There is no shorter route, however uncomfortable we may be.  

This dream was pretty much devoid of color, but what does stand out is that the young woman was wearing a white shirt. This morning I think of a white flag. She moved easily in the dream in a way I could not. I do not think she had any trouble surrendering to my plea for help. I think this is some of what  this dream is about. Learning to surrender when the way is not yet known, and surrendering to it when it is.   

 

Abandonment contains in itself pure faith, hope, and love. 

Jean-Pierre de Caussade         

 

Image:  San Leandro, 2014. This is one of my earlier images. I want a photograph of white that had no other color. Not easy to find on my camera roll!

Adventuring

 I think this is the first time I have smiled while reading a David Whyte poem.  I recently read, and alas I cannot remember where, that our souls are actually adventurous.  I love that description. Whyte's poem reminds me that healing can be found in being courageous.  We are being led into wholeness.  Last night I heard the words, "Honor the body." The body, while one day will be shed,  for now is our temple and our vehicle.  Let us tend to them with care. 

Today I hear the call to kindness, and I smile.     

 

Blessings this Holy Week.    

My courageous life

has gone ahead
and is looking back,
calling me on.

My courageous life
has seen everything
I have been
and everything
I have not
and has
forgiven me,
day after day.

My courageous life
still wants
my company:
wants me to
understand
my life as witness
and thus
bequeath me
the way ahead.

My courageous life
has the patience
to keep teaching me,
how to invent
my own
disappearance,
and how
once gone,
to reappear again.

My courageous life
wants to stop
being ahead of me
so that it can lie
down and rest
deep inside the body
it has been
calling on.

My courageous life
wants to be
my foundation,
showing me
day after day
even against my will

how to undo myself,
how to surpass myself,
how to laugh as I go
in the face
of danger,
how to invite
the right kind
of perilous
love,
how to find
a way
to die
of generosity.

~ David Whyte  

www.claudiacummins.com

   

    

image: Redwood City, 2022

A Prayer for Ukraine and the World

 This morning I read a devotion written by Rev. John Edgerton that began with a verse from Psalm 20. That sent me on a search through various translations of the Psalm.  As I perused my books, I was surprised to discover how much I needed the word victory this morning. 

The thrill of victory... Like everything, it has two sides, and it can be as dark and harmful as any addiction. Yet, today, it seems appropriate to pray for the victory for a country  being overrun by another's greed for unlimited power.  May those eroding waves of violence retreat, leaving only calm waters in their wake.  

Let us pray. 

May God grant you your heart's desire, 

and fulfill all your plans. 

May we shout for joy over your victory, 

and in the name of our God set up our banners.

May the LORD fulfill all your petitions. 

Psalm 20:4 NRSV

     

Rev. John Edgerton, Lenten Devotional, The Long Haul, United Church of Christ

image:  Redwood City, April 2022    

As I stood under this scarlet trumpet vine, I heard a beautiful bird song. At the top of a large tree nearby, I spotted a tiny bird whose song seemed to be coming from a much larger bird. 

This morning I realized that its voice came from the heart of God. No wonder it soared.   

Understanding Lazarus

 Both my mother, who passed two decades ago, and Tyler, who is still very much alive, blessed be, can tell you that when I am tired, my outlook can turn a bit dark. Today that happened. A day-long training class via Zoom on Saturday and a poor night's sleep did not make for a good combination for me. However, when I walked into the back yard this afternoon, and saw a planter filled with these tiny blossoms of  light, I understood.  All is just beginning.  Do not despair.  Resurrection is real and Jesus stands at the tomb and calls. 

I am grateful for the reminder. 

      

Image: Yes, in my very own backyard. April, 2022