January 1, 2016
In a wood-floor room with huge windows that look upon the meandering river below, the dancers make a circle. Everybody has a partner and we will progress around the circle, switching partners; no eye will be unlooked upon. I have been coming to these dances long enough that I finally feel comfortable, happy, at home while dancing. The energy is palpable and we are joyful to start a new year. I start off with my love, making eye contact in the ways we already have been all weekend, sharing our divine selves with each other. I feel so present.
I honor the place in you where the entire universe dwells
I honor the place in me where the entire universe dwells
I look people in the eye, holding each and every person’s gaze who will hold mine. I wonder if they know that this used to be out of the question for me. I wonder if they can see my soul’s expansion.
January 2, 2016
Richard Rohr tells me that there are many paths toward contemplation and Love, not just meditation, yoga, and chanting, but even poetry. This makes me feel better, because even though what I am doing is not exactly poetry, maybe if I
created new lines
every once in
it would look like poetry and we could call it contemplation. Because what I do when I sit down to write is pick a moment that I’ve held on to from the day, or maybe the day before, and let it bubble up from within and see how it is speaking to me. Sometimes it seems profound to me, but usually just a word or three. Sometimes it’s not, but who says the human experience always feels profound? Isn’t the daily hum and beauty of living profundity enough?
I may already be back at home, but here are two last shorts about Gethsemani, my friends.
I have noticed when I do the things I think I “should” do but do not really want to do, I feel stifled; I want to climb out of my skin.
I sit, squirmy, through Christmas Eve mass, having forgotten everyone else here is Catholic and these things mean more to them than to me. I count down to when they will go forward for the Eucharist and I will leave to go have a snack, to go outside in my blanket and look at the moon. Finally. When will I learn to listen to myself and stop obeying all the things that I think “should” be done and rather listen to the One deep inside me who knows what I need? When will I stop allowing guilt to run my life?
I already am on this path.
I go on a Christmas hike instead of a church service, and it is the best Christmas morning I could give myself.
I finally sat down and meditated today. I did not fall asleep once. I sat with the sense of Self inside me that I’m trying to learn to listen to. Maybe it was because I was actually alert. Maybe because I had read enough Thomas Merton to get in the contemplative mood. Maybe because I ran out of running away.
This little house is named Enoch’s Stone House. It’s a little meditation shack. Inside are cobwebs, a pitcher of water, a cross and rosary, a beautiful psalm book, and notebooks where people write down their prayers.
I rarely write in such books, but today I decided that my words, too, were worth being heard.
This morning, I just wrote emails to about 25 council members on Indy’s city council to ask them to support Prop 291 and 41. The proposals are intended to help protect the rights of homeless individuals. You might think of it as a parallel to the Voting Rights Act of 1965 — even if they are “supposed” to have the same rights, sometimes they need special protection to ACTUALLY be protected. The proposals are also supposed to provide support / wraparound services when they are moved from encampments (generally due to private business owners wanted to build and make some $$$).
I was doing this sort of hurriedly, copy-paste-copy-paste and change a name, trying to get through the list. Then I thought of what I was doing, and all the people behind this. Afterward, I slowed back down and went to the list of email addresses, reading each of their names and trying to spend just a moment on them.
This was harder than copy-paste-copy-paste.
And I thought of how we’re each just trying to do our best, and our firmly held political beliefs are held for a reason. I tried to be compassionate even for the people who don’t think like me (who could be anyone or no one, as I do change my mind often!). And I admit I wanted to rush through this, too.
I wondered which was more important: taking the action or taking the moment to pause, to hover mentally, maybe even prayerfully, over each name. I wondered if the question mattered.
My wish is for the best possible thing to happen, though I don’t know how it may come about. And it’s heartbreaking that people freeze and die in the meantime, and it is perplexing why it is that way, and I hope that I will do my part. I hope we will all do our parts.