The Pool

Yesterday was one of those painful days of misunderstanding and miscommunication.  Perhaps you can relate...

Heartbroken and fatigued

Guilty and ashamed

You crawl to us.

Welcome.

We are gladdened that you found us so many years ago, meaning

We are gladdened that you found Yourself.

Deep within you sought and found a comfort zone like no other,

A healing pool made for you, made to share,

A pool you may claim but not own,

A pool not of your creation always open to you,

A pool where you completely immerse yourself

Knowing you can breathe under water.

Rest here with us and float, weightless.

We float you.

Sweet child, things are not as they seem, and

In this instant you need do nothing.

Love abounds, and you are not its source.

Be grateful.

Love can reach into nooks and crannies you can’t even see, so

Do not be fooled by someone else’s seeming resistance; let him be.

Entrust him to us, and float.

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I have been slumping of late, gradually spiraling downward, which is not to be confused with inward.

Voices from my formative years have resurfaced, “not enough, not enough, not enough, too much, too much, too much.”  Vacillating between the assumption that I am inadequate and the suspicion that I am inappropriately direct, I hunker down.  Same ole, same ole.

My most notable achievement this week will likely be my 67^th birthday, or perhaps more significantly, increasing my morning walks from 2 miles to 3.  Rumor has it that exercise is an anti-depressant.

So I’m asking your indulgence while I attempt to remember what I know to be true.

1.  I need not ask God for anything; God has already given and continues to give all God is ever gong to give.  Goodness and love are already here in abundance.  Beseeching God is misdirected energy.

2.  When I catch myself beseeching God I can smile gently and remember to relax.

3.  Prayer is the willingness on my part to accept love in any situation, any circumstance.  No matter how low I allow myself to sink, I can still let love touch me. 

4.  Love heals.

5.  AlAnon has taught me that I can bear anything, just for today…

6.  My (your) value is not earned but God-given.  This is true despite any and all evidence to the contrary.

7.  The idea of “church” (faith community of any kind) is both lofty and fraught with peril.  Bringing love into church is very, very tricky.

8.  Every prayer for love to show up must begin with the admission and acknowledgment that I don’t know what that would look like and a willingness to be surprised.

9.  I am resisting the label of “Christian.”  I am embarrassed to be identified as Christian.  I opt for “person of faith.”

10.  Someone, somewhere hears me.  

Just turn your head and suck...

I wrote this essay in 1996 and was reminded of it recently when the topic of an AlAnon meeting was self-care.  I enjoyed finding it and reading it again.

There is much we women know as a result of our procreative function.   My understanding of God comes in great part from what I know about mothering.  The Judeo/Christian tradition focuses exclusively on God, the Father.  Good metaphor in its own way, but not complete.  One of the most empowering metaphors about God is the nursing mother,  a wholly feminine image.

When a new being emerges into the world, everything the infant needs is ready and waiting.  Her mother's body is effortlessly and without struggle preparing to meet the need.  All the newborn need do is instinctively latch on and suck.   Nourishing the baby in no way depletes the mother, in fact, she benefits from the process both physically and emotionally.  She is designed to supply the demand and is herself nourished by the process. 

Recently, I voiced my frustration that I pray and meditate, get centered and serene, and then the anxiety returns.  I pray and meditate again, become serene, and then the anxiety returns, over and over.  I keep thinking that turning to Spirit should fill me once and for all, for the rest of my life.  But, the breastfeeding metaphor helps me see it differently.  Babies fill themselves at their mother's breast becoming peaceful and serene.  Having been held, warmed and filled, they are at peace.  Nevertheless, within hours, they are hungry again, and if there is the slightest delay, they become frantic, angry and desperate for fulfillment.

I remember times when my almost ten pound newborn son would scream with hunger.  I gathered him in my arms, sat in the rocker and offered my breast.  I talked soothingly, stroked his cheek, but he only screamed louder.  His cries caused my milk to "let down" and begin dripping on his little face, but he was so upset and frustrated he paid no attention.  All he needed to do was turn his head and suck.  Everything he wanted and needed was right there for his taking.  Sometimes it took quite a bit of coaxing to get him to stop protesting long enough to accept what was being offered.   Of course, eventually he would, and he and I both would calm down, relax and enjoy the abundance of it all.

Baby Matthew reminds me of me.  I want to be fed once and for all and never have to return to the Source.  I meditated yesterday, why do I have to sit with God again today?  All I know is that if I don't repeatedly "turn my head and suck" I become anxious agitated and lose my serenity.   I suspect She set it up this way because She enjoys my company.  In some inexplicable way, God, who rumor has it needs nothing, calls us back time and again because She benefits from the relationship as much as we.  I understand.   Nothing has ever given me more satisfaction than to hold one of my precious babies to my breast, close my eyes and gently rock.  Those twenty minutes sessions filled us both. 

Pitch Perfect

Yesterday the Paris Community Choir performed our spring concert.  I have so enjoyed singing in a choir once again.  There are some really good singers in this choir, far better than I.  There are a few scattered among our alto section who have near perfect pitch.  I try to stand by one of those.  I have often stated, “I’m not always on the right pitch, but at least I know when I’m off.”  When I know I’m off tune I start lip singing until I find the right note and rejoin the choir.

It seems to me this idea of perfect pitch also applies to personal integrity.  As with singing, I may not always be “right on,” but I usually know when I’m off and usually have the same response: I hunker down, shut up and try to find the right key once again. 

Like now.  I’m off and I know I’m off.  I feel confused, disturbed, out of sorts--not quite in tune.  I don’t feel entirely comfortable in my own skin and suspect I am projecting out there something other than is true in here.

Nothing, in my experience, feels better than authentically and confidently standing tall in my own boots, let the devil take the hindmost!  But, alas, it can’t be faked!  Faking integrity is an oxymoron; it just won’t preach.

So recently I’ve been going through the motions, hitting a few wrong notes, trying to find my way.  Fortunately, this is not my first rodeo!  I know I’ll find a newer, truer path (to mix metaphors), a new song that expresses who I am becoming.  In the meantime, you might want to cover your ears.

Church

My true work, both within myself and with others, is based upon my belief and experience that each of us is “gifted” from God with an inherent, intrinsic wisdom that can be trusted.  Call it the Holy Spirit or deep intuition or the Voice of Loving Kindness or the Inner Teacher.  I don’t much care what you call it. What matters is that we find it, access it, consult it and trust it

The practice of meditation or contemplation is a gateway, an entry point to inner wisdom.  Art, nature, dreams, yoga, guided meditations, walking alone can also be invitations to revelation.  So can honest, truthful conversation with another person.

I am saddened by the thought that millions live their entire lives looking for clues “out there,” not realizing there is a pool of love and wisdom “in here.”  It isn’t my pool or your pool; it is our pool.  It is not hidden but must be discovered.  For most of us, someone had to point it out to us.  Jesus repeatedly pointed the way; the kingdom of heaven is within. So many other teachers have as well from various religions, traditions and spiritualties.

Finding this inner knowing is merely the beginning; learning to trust it is a never ending journey.  How to describe the tremendous resistance that confronts us once we have dipped our toe in the pool? Thus the need for companions.

Fortunately, I am blessed with two sisters who can and often do remind me to return to my Source, to look within and wait.  My husband as well is a consistent voice for remembering and reminding me of the reliability of the truth within.  Other companions chime in at various times and from sundry places.

Any 2 or 3 people gathered for the purpose of accessing and sharing loving wisdom is a church.  Any gathering of people, large or small, who will not accept pat answers, outdated revelations, unloving commandments or dictates, no matter how revered the source, are a church.  With this understanding, I love to go to church; I love to invite church into my home, lunch with church, take walks with church.  I often get to lie in bed with church.  Texting church is helpful as is discovering church on Facebook.

If you know or even merely suspect that within you and every human resides an unbreakable connection to a loving source that is wiser and more loving than you can imagine…let’s meet for church.

Jesus

Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.  No, no.

Jesus loves me this I know.  End of sentence.