quiet

I've noticed something lately...

Quiet.

I've noticed it in my home as my children play in another room.

I've noticed it in the morning as I get ready for work.

I've noticed it in the car on my commute.

I've noticed it as I walk around campus.

I've savored it during my morning meditation.

It wasn't all that long ago when silence would make me uncomfortable, when I would feel compelled to fill the silence with conversation, television, radio.  I don't miss those distractions and quite enjoy their absence.

I find myself sometimes yearning for a moment of silence when I'm stressed or overwhelmed.  Just a minute to walk away and breath, to gather my thoughts before moving forward.

I've noticed that accepting quiet into my life, my mind, my heart changes the way I think, act, and react.  It seems I move a little slower these days.

I like it.

Quiet.

seeking a teacher

It's been a while since I've written an update on meditation.  Lest you think I've given that up, I thought it was probably time.

I'm kind of at that point where I need help with my meditation.  I've read books, practiced almost every single day for a year now.  I've tried different positions and spaces.  I've tried focusing on a word, my breathe, forgiving-ly releasing each thought and centering my mind.

Being outdoors heightens the meditative experience, but 30 degree temperatures give me fits when I'm moving around.  Sitting still in the cold may make me explode!  Probably not real effective!  So, for now, I'm stuck indoors.

The yield of this devotion has certainly been increased patience, understanding, and a sense of moving about life more purposefully.  That should be enough, no?

The problem is I can't let go of the expectation that meditation can enrich my spiritual life.  I know, the first problem is that I'm bringing expectation into meditation.  I did, indeed, and still do, expect meditation to eventually tap into some deep rooted connection with God.  I wish for meditative time to bring me to a spiritual space that I have never experienced, an awakening of sorts.  Maybe a spiritual clarity.  A mystical experience.

I often begin meditation with a prayer that God will open my heart and mind and fill me with the Holy Spirit only to feel my body ache in anticipation and hope.  The ache becomes a closing off and as my body grows tight, my mind floats back to the task list of the day.  Frustrating, really...

I'm not giving up, nor am I negating the impact meditation has had.  I am, however, recognizing that I've likely gone as far as I can without guidance.  Where to go from here, I have not a clue.

I welcome your ideas and advice!

new eyes

Have you ever had that moment when you turn and look and the whole scene appears new?  It's the same one you've seen a million times, yet something is different?

It's been a difficult week at work.  There has been much cause for reflection, for quiet moments, for introspection.  Sometimes, that's how it is when you believe your work has meaning.

On my drive in this morning - the same drive I've been making for nearly 6 years - I was deep in thought.  The same thoughts I fought throughout my morning meditation.  Hmmmmph!  

I was pining over a problem I've faced year after year and listening to Rachmaninoff's Vespers, a work I often turn to in tough emotional times. Vespers is a collection of a cappella pieces with voices layered in rich chords, some comforting, some conflicting.  It has the power to pull me away from the conscious world and into a space that is purely spiritual.  It has the power to give voice to every complex thought and emotion swimming in my very being.

At the climax of a powerful piece, I literally and figuratively turned the corner and saw the scene before me with new eyes.  Of course, there was a dramatic change in the physical landscape.  A view that has been gray and brown and lifeless for weeks was suddenly drowning under water.  The magnificence of nature stopped me in my tracks and I pulled over to wonder at the sight.  I sat frozen, seemingly a bit in shock.  I've never seen this stretch quite like this before.  It was strangely beautiful.

Beckoning

The morning air was filled with a haze that left me breathless.  It was thick this morning and difficult to see.  I sat in meditation as I do each morning.  It has become an important part of my morning routine, though some days it feels another thing to check off my to-do list.

But today was different.  Upon leaving meditation, I felt a beckoning.  The thick, foggy air seemed to be extending an invitation.  Come join me and see what you don't usually see, it seemed to say.

So, I did!

And I did fell compelled to see more . . .

I felt so called to soak in this strange and mysterious morning, that I even stopped along the roadside on my way in to work.

Nature is very, very inviting.  How does nature beckon to you?

Meditation Images

My eyes are closed.  In front of me appears a funnel-like image.  It is blueish against the black background of my meditation.  On the surface of the funnel are hundreds of white-framed images, photos I think.  I recognize them as my thoughts.  Most are of work, some of home, some of the conversation about faith that dances in my head.

I am overwhelmed by the sheer number of images I see.  For it is rare for me to visualize anything in meditation and I know there is a reason these images have appeared today.  My body has been sensing for days the familiar chaos of August.  The tension in my neck is mounting, the tired in my eyes is appearing.  My heart is racing and I feel my body pulling back, resisting this busyness of August.  

For years, this month brought new beginnings, fresh starts, renewed energy, new friends.  But not this year.  This year it's bringing tornado like images and sensations within my heart and mind.

And it makes me wonder, why am I here?  Is this the place for me anymore?

Tears fall down my face, eyes still closed, body still immersed in the lotus position.  This, too, is a recent effect of meditation.  Tears.

There is a reason for this that will be revealed in time.  In time . . .

Peace

In the hectic pace of a normal week, I've been forcing myself to find places of peace.  This is fairly new for me, but, oh so welcome.  

So, this week brought the completion of our bathroom renovations, then cleaning, then carpet cleaning, then moving furniture back into their proper places, (at least the proper places we've decided for them now because putting them back where they were before the carpets were cleaned wouldn't make any sense), gymnastics, vege pick-up, planning and preparing for birthday parties, and a number of fires to put out at work!  It's been busy...

But, I found that peaceful place - right, smack-dab in the middle of the week in the middle of an errand I had been asked to run.  It was found in a moment that I wouldn't normally have had in the course of a week.  It was found in a quite familiar place.

and I stopped and a I breathed . . .

for about 10 minutes . . .

and then I went about my life, all the better for this moment.

Planning & Playing

It's been 8 days since my last post and only my second post of June.  Normally, this might make me feel guilty and frustrated with myself.  Instead, I am thrilled!  My planful and intentional summer wish list is well underway.

Here's what we've been up to . . .

Planning a bathroom renovation (actually 2 bathrooms!):

And a little demo . . .

Playing  a little . . .

And planning a little more . . .

 

And playing even more . . .

 

The summer is off to a great start.  

Each morning begins on my front porch before the rest of the neighborhood stirs and I'm alone with the sun, the wind, the birds.  Together, we meditate and remind ourselves to slow down and take it all in.

Each day ends with us together - a family, enjoying each other and our precious time together. (Lest I should leave the wrong impression, the space between is often filled with impatience, yelling, crying, etc.)

As much as this blog was intended as a space for me to ask and ponder big questions, I'm finding this summer has brought with it a quieting of those questions and peace of mind with simply being! For that, I will not apologize or feel guilty - only thrilled!

Being

There is a dark and lonely place that my mind escapes to on occasion.  A usually talkative person, my words retreat to a space far away and I long to relinquish any and all decision making, organizing, planning, and doing.  For most of my life, I've known this as the ugly times and assumed I had a predisposition for depression.  This is where I am today.

I've hesitated to write about this believing it a sign of weakness and moment of selfishness.  I also worry about those reading who might become worried themselves.  But, I've learned that writing has a way of lighting darkness, clearing the mind, and changing my perspective.  So, I am writing.

"I would like to know if other people have these moments too." (Schoemperlen)

I am also reading.  I recently came across a passage in Our Lady of the Lost and Found that shed light on my own mental retreats.  Schoemperlen writes of her own life when she was in her thirties (like me) and asking life's big questions (like me), "I found myself slipping into the ever-seductive slough of despair."  She continues, "This swamp of self-doubt led . . . to an obsessive spasm of self-examination.  I desperately wanted to figure out what was wrong with me."

I've had this experience all my life - where I become quiet, withdrawn, and wallow in self pity about the things I wish I had in my life (money, time, peace, a different job, material things around my home, balance).  Or I become caught up in self-critique and desire to be better than I am - more attune to nature, more focused on sustainability and care for our earth, less critical of others, more patient, less judgmental, more open, more able to be in the moment.

This is the first time I've come to this place since my surgery and meaningful time at home following.  That is when I began meditation, when I began writing, when I began seeing things differently.  So as I find myself here again, I'm asking myself why.  Why am I here when there is so much in my life to be thankful for?  Why am I withdrawn when those I love are reaching out?  Having seen beauty and love and peace and kindness in such different ways over the last four months, why am I here again?  

"These intermittent losses of faith . . . would seem to have little to do with love or loneliness.  Rather, they seem to be about something less tangible, something to do with purpose and meaning or a sudden visceral suspicion of the lack thereof." (Schoemperlen)

I don't know what precipitates this time.  I've never felt able to pull myself out - only time does that.  "More often that not it happens at less predictable moments when suddenly and for no good reason, I feel bereft and unequal to the task at hand, be it making the bed, doing the dishes, going to the bank, washing my hair, or writing another book." (Schoemperlen)  

These moments leave as quickly as they set in.

I am seeing this time differently than I used to.  I don't feel so hopeless and I don't feel like there is something wrong with me.  Meditation has taught me to allow what is.  So, this is where I am today and this space means something for me.  This is where I am supposed to be.  I have come to discover that these times are a yearning to simply BE.

"It is only in the telling of my story that I could recognize how change has been happening all along.  Now I understand that change (like time, history, and words) is both quick and slow.  Too quick.  Too slow." (Schoemperlen)

NPR has a Sunday morning program titled On Being which used to be called Speaking of Faith.  This program considers a wide and open variety of topics on faith, purpose, meaning, and being.  I love the change in title and feel my own journey of faith, purpose, meaning, and being reflects the paradigm shift also found in the program title change.  Ahhhh - a moment of connection!

So, I still don't know why I am here today and when I will leave this place.  But, I'm here in this silent, lonely, quiet place in a very different way.  Just BEING!

Blowing Bubbles

As I write this evening, I hear loud sobbing from the bedroom next door.  My three-year-old decided to throw away her "binky" tonight (we hid it, knowing better than to really throw it in the trash).  In my mind, her binky is a reasonable coping mechanism that allows her some self soothing. When she's ready, she'll really say goodbye.  There are fights worth fighting, but this is not one of them.

This is where my husband and I do not agree.  He's lying next to her in bed hoping that his presence will eventually provide the same comfort and she'll fall asleep.  I'd put my money on her!

In the same room is a terrified six-year-old little girl whose been having nightmares.  Really Scary Nightmares.  And despite her thumb sucking, she has not been able to calm or sooth herself as of late.  She's taken to sitting in a reclining chair in our room, trying with all her might to keep her eyes open so that she won't see the strangers again.  She's been waking with a tremble and shakes as she tries to wake me or my husband for comfort.

We learned a little trick that goes something like this:

"Take a deep breath in.  Imagine or see the strangers or the things that scare you.  Blow them out of your mind, through your mouth, and into a BIG bubble.  Slowly blow that bubble bigger and bigger.  When all the bad and scary thoughts are trapped in your bubble, quickly seal the bubble."

"OK.  Let's get ready to bat that bubble into space - far, far away.  Ready?  1 . . . 2 . . . 3 . . ."(pretend to throw it in the air and bat it into space).

"Now, imagine God.  What does he look like to you?"

"Baby Jesus," says the littlest one.

"The stars in the sky," says the biggest one.

"Big hands holding me," offers Mommy.

"Take a big breath in and see your God wrapping you tight and keeping you safe."

May all your fears and all your worry find their way into bubbles and fly far, far away!