The Holy Mystery

Franciscan monk and contemplative, Richard Rohr spoke in Atlanta last Saturday. Over 500 people filled the pews at St. Phillip Episcopal Cathedral. Humble and humorous, Fr. Richard kept us spell-bound for hours. Below are just a few morsels from the ten pages of notes that I took.

• The dualistic mind doesn't like mystery. When we have a new experience we divide the field...that which we agree with and like--we welcome. The negative, problematic, and different--we eliminate.
  
• To be non-dualistic is to hold the paradox, the dark and the light. (way oversimplified, but gives a taste of his teaching on this)
  
• The dualistic mind is not bad, it allows us to read, learn, etc., but it can not go far enough.
  
• We need a Capernican Revolution...just as we learned that the earth is not the center of the universe; the soul has to suffer the the same displacement...God is the center, not us.
• People who have love of God have tremendous humility...when you meet the Holy One, you know that you don't know.
• Karl Rahner said that we should not use the word "God" for fifty years. Instead, we should use the term, "Holy Mystery" because to name It is to act as if we understand It.
• From David White poem, "What to Remember When Waking," "what you can plan is too small for you to live."
• The Reformation was oppositional...contemplation died in the Reformation because it focused on opposition.
• What we call contemplation today, was simply called prayer.
• The "third eye" is a Christian term.
  
• The Enlightenment wasn't very enlightening.
• The dualistic mind is not a joyful mind.
• You are present when head space, heart space, and gut space can open at the same time...keep mind space open...don't form your conclusions...do not judge. (notes for the heart and body opening were too long to simplify, sorry!)
• Find the gift of your soul and find a way to give this gift. It usually doesn't involve making money.

If you would like to learn more about Richard Rohr and his work you may go to the website for the Center for Action and Contemplation. He is truly a transformational teacher. Namaste

Out of the Mouths of Babes

"What was your disappointing news Mom?" Brendan asked. After I told him he wondered, "What will you do now?"

"I don't know. I am too sad, mad, and hurt to make decisions right now." I replied, "Experience tells me this is the time to wait, not the time to act."

A long pause followed.

"You know that comtemplative prayer you do? You might want to spend some time with that." He suggested. Then after another pause he added, "And a lot of people are going to think they know what you should do, but only you can know that mom. Just remember that."

AHHHHHH, and the student becomes the teacher. Namaste

Community Carries Us

At dinner, I was surrounded by long-time friends...kidding with one another in the way only those who know us best can.

Each of the women at the table was carrying some form of pain...dreams dashed...marriages sputtering toward collapse...adult children making poor choices...parents and pets dying.

And still there was laughter...HOLY LAUGHTER.

And yes there were tears...HOLY TEARS.

Perhaps this is what is meant by church. Honest, loving community carrying one another, honoring the Holy Mystery with our reverence and presence for one another. Namaste

Dance of the Fog

A single lamp lit the great room...darkness shrouding the house. During morning prayers, the shadows had parted...opening to grey/blue skies accented with pink...fog rising from the water.

Earthbound clouds shift and move with each breath. To stand watch over their dance is to remember the fluidity and fragility of life. If I walk away for even a moment, I risk missing some miraculous, momentary formation.

In the summer the lake is a cool respite from scorching Southern heat...busy with boats, parties on docks, children squealing with delight. Fall brings cold feet on the deck, rose-breasted grosbeaks at the feeder, and the dance of the morning fog. Namaste

Don't Fight It

"I love your new hair!" My friend exclaimed. "It is as if your face isn't fighting for attention with your hair anymore." I thought that was such a funny line...face and hair vying for attention. But then I told her, "I just got tired of the time and money involved with dying it. I figured, chop it all off and let's see what is really underneath. I have been fighting my natural color for over 20 years!"

I love this new "do." I don't know if I look any better or worse, but I do know that it is fabulous not to waste any time or gobs of money on coloring. And in the past, I have LOVED coloring! It is so short now, that when I go swimming...it is shake your head simple.

For years I was afraid to reveal the true head of hair underneath the decades of processed chemicals...kinda like the anxiety we can feel when we consider exposing the essence of who we truly are.

The expectations we have for ourselves, and others have for us, layer upon us like processed personhood...until one day, we can't remember what we really look like; who we really are.

In fact, similar to when those grey roots start to peak out, we can be quick to cover up our true nature...what if it isn't pretty? What if others don't like "her?" And without even realizing it, we have been fighting ourselves for years, maybe even decades.

How many self-inflicted battles have I borne because of "self" denial? It can be so easy for me to support others to "listen to that still small voice," but when mine comes up with some unconventional wisdom, I question it greatly.

I admire my wise friends who have dropped the struggle with themselves long ago. I yearn to be like them...revealing their roots (and I'm not talking hair here), exposing their hopes and dreams, living into the presence of this moment, rather than wondering how they will be perceived...unguarded, vulnerable, loving. These men and women who have put down their arms are truly inspirational. Namaste

Living Awake

Jenny sees funny things the rest of us miss. Her humor is never mean-spirited, she simply sees irony everywhere. One time, she was in church and the fire and brimstone minister was exuberantly singing, "When the roll is called up yonder I'll be there!" All the while, jabbing his pointed finger toward the ground. That one, it makes her bust a gut!

The other day, she sent me a text message I only half understood about the guy in the cow suit for chik-fil-a waving in the wrong direction. What I did understand was the end of her message, "Tell me this is not the funniest planet ever!" My reply was, "It is if you live awake like you do."

A couple of weeks ago one of our friends brought over his 18 month-old and 2 1/2 year-old daughters. His wife was out of town and he wanted to watch a football game with Malcolm. I got to play "auntie" for a couple of hours.

It has been a while since small children have blessed this house. I took the girls into Brendan and Kiki's rooms and they picked out two huge stuffed St. Bernards to play with. We laid the dogs on the carpet. One of the adults would count, "one, two, three!" and the girls would jump onto the stuffed dogs, clinging to their necks, rolling and laughing. This process was repeated innumerable times...each jump followed by squeals of glee as if it was the first one.

Their joy was infectious, Malcolm and I were making silly faces, grabbing the camera...energized by their ALIVENESS!

Little children remind us how to live awake...wonder, joy, playing until you need a nap, making funny faces, dancing, loving, laughing, LOOKING.

At what age do we stop seeing that we do in fact live on the funniest, most beautiful planet? Is it a gradual or sudden process? When was the first time I mindlessly drove home, ignoring the sun setting on the pasture of white calves near Miss Stella's house?

What would it be like if tomorrow morning, instead of "getting out of bed," I decided to "wake up?" Even if my day isn't filled with stuffed St. Bernard's to jump on; even if there were a few rottweilers nipping my heels, I wonder if my experience of life wouldn't be richer if I engaged all of my senses in this process of being...eyes and heart fully open.

I hope I will be inspired by Jenny and the girls and LIVE AWAKE. Namaste

Devotion that Inspires

"Why don't you schedule the surgery?" I asked my friend. He had been experiencing excruciating back pain and recently found out there was a surgery that might alleviate his discomfort.

"I have a special gift I'm finishing up. The doctor said there is a chance I will not be able to do my woodworking for a while, maybe ever again, after the surgery. It will take some time, but I want to finish this gift beforehand. I want to know it is done." He replied.

Knowing how much his pain had impacted his physical and emotional well being, my initial reaction was open-mouthed astonishment.

As the day wore on, I kept coming back to our conversation...wondering about the spark of love that was carrying him through his pain...love for the recipient...love for his art...

I was haunted by the sense of legacy in his voice...to know this gift of his handiwork would live on years beyond his physical body.

Oh, to love with such devotion...Oh to live with such passion...Namaste

Day 41: A Grateful Heart

Mine is a grateful heart...
for the Spirit-led nudge to write ...

for your companionship...

This morning the alarm went off before sunrise. A fruitful time before dawn...darkness pregnant with promise. Coffee in one hand, journal in the other, I penned my thoughts about the time which we marked for renewal. What has been renewed? What have I learned? So much has happened...

I will share with you a couple of thoughts about my experience of the past 40 days in hopes that they might have meaning for you.

Discipline is not a dirty word.
I didn't realize when I committed to write each day how many obstacles I would encounter. My guess is, this would be the case for most of us. Below are just a few of the times I struggled with keeping to my commitment.

When we traveled to Utah, I just wanted to hang out with Malcolm, Mom, and Dad. At first I resented anything that would interfere with my down time. But the vacation was richer for the writing...reclaiming prompted Malcolm and me to ride the chair lift to the top of the mountain, and mountain bike down. (Luckily Malcolm recovered from his fall...a whole other story. We truly LOVED the beauty and the experience of pushing ourselves physically in the outdoors.)

The morning after we flew back home from from vacation, I received a text message from Brendan, "Swine flu have to come home." When we walked in the door after I had driven over 7 hours back and forth from Auburn, all I wanted to do was tend to my 6'4" "baby." Yet it was good for him, and for me, to give him space. My computer probably saved him some smothering. (Did you ever notice that "mothering" is contained in "smothering?) In any case, "Listening To Our Bodies" was a result of my mortification that Brendan had spent 48 hours alone in his dorm room in misery before going to get help.

One Saturday, after 5 hours of sitting in the rain watching a college football game, showering and snuggling up on the couch seemed like a great plan. Thankfully, our hostess, Ina encouraged me to sit at their computer and write...I came dangerously close to bailing that night. The downside of that decision much greater for me than for any of my readers. Ina's presence inspired the post on being an encourager.

Last weekend our internet router crashed. The only way to get "connected" was to drive 40 minutes into town and write at Berkeley Bob's coffee shop. It was raining (again) and for some reason, making the trek to town seemed more daunting than it should have. Thankfully, Malcolm tagged along to keep me company.

I don't share with you this litany of speed bumps along the road so that you will feel sorry for me or think highly of me. Many of you overcome obstacles much greater each day. I know a few of you are commuting to seminaries in Atlanta from homes in Alabama; one of you has endured pneumonia; Brendan was not the only one impacted by swine-flu; at least one of you has been given an unwelcome diagnosis; children have been sent to college; ailing parents have been tended; husbands have experienced disturbing symptoms; jobs have been lost. And yet, in the midst of these challenges, you have carried on.

Some days I have felt the "finished product" was better than others. Yet when it was most difficult to write, I found great meaning in the process. I can't help but wonder if there wasn't a touch of grace in my focus shifting from "getting it done," to desiring to touch souls...to being faithful to my promise. I am reminded that the promise is fulfilled when we stay disciplined in following our hearts.

Community carries us.
Thank you for your insights and encouragement...this was not a lonely pursuit. Knowing anyone was following, was reason enough to "show up" each day. Thank you for inspiring me...helping to reignite the flame. We are all better people because of those who carry us and those whom we choose to carry.

Art makes us better observers/participants in life.
I remember when I was writing Dancing Naked Under the Moon: Uncovering the Wisdom Within I realized how I noticed details in a deeper way. Something about taking the time to write...in a journal...on a blog...to a loved one, opens up the pathway to SEEING differently. At times, I have felt the presence of this new way of SEEING, it is so alive! I have heard painters say that when they are painting, they see more colors, more detail in their lives.

I want to take this series and carry it another step or two or three or four or wherever the Spirit might want to carry it. Can you envision a booklet...for individuals...with a facilitator's guide in the back...small groups could gather to support and share once a week...perhaps the exercises, the community will benefit those who are desiring an experiential faith. I can feel it wanting to be born. Any thoughts you might have are most welcome.

I will continue to write on this blog...maybe not every day, but frequently...other series themes are bubbling up. You will continue to receive the new posts unless you "unsubscribe."

Again, THANK YOU! Namaste

Day 40: You Did It!

Ah, so here we are...day 40 of 40. You did it! I cannot thank you enough for walking with me. Knowing you were by my side inspired me greatly.

Do you remember what was happening in your life when we started on August 24th? Is it hard to believe this time has passed so quickly?

When I wrote that first post for the series, I briefly summarized the significance of the number 40 in the Bible and mentioned, "Each of these examples speaks to a time of testing which led to renewal and the fulfillment of promises."

I wonder, have you experience a time of testing or a sense of renewal? How about the fulfillment of any promises?

There are no right or wrong answers; this is simply a wonderful opportunity to reflect on where we have been these past 40 days. How are you the same? How are you different? What shifted? What didn't?

In that first post I quoted Shah Nazar Ali Kianfar, a Sufi master, "40 days, according to the teachings and practice of the prophets and holy masters, is the mystical number of the course of perfection, a course that leads to an experience of the true essence of one's humanity."

And I mused..."by staying committed to this practice, for this period of time, we open ourselves to a greater likelihood of 'experiencing the essence of one's humanity;' that the path on this journey will take unimagined twists and turns."

I know for me, this has come to pass. But I am more interested in you. How, if at all, you have experienced the essence of your humanity? Has this journey taken any unexpected twists and turns?

Give yourself at least 20 minutes to reflect, perhaps even journal about how this time has been for you. (Preferably you will give yourself the gift of an hour...soft music, candles, incense the works...hey, create your own ritual of completion...high five yourself in the mirror...bow to the North, South, East, and West...give thanks to God...go for it!)

Have you felt a sense of playful exploration and tried some of the suggested exercises? If so, what were your favorites? Did you simply read and feed your soul that way? Did you remember to feed your soul? Was it enjoyable? Was it hard?

What has happened in your life since late August? What has been exciting? Have you been disappointed? Surprised by grace? Steeped in frustration? How have you grown? How is your connection to the Divine? To yourself? To others?

If you like, share your thoughts in the comment section below or send me an email.

I hope you will indulge me; tomorrow I am going to write a Day 41 to share some of my reflections on our time together and the ideas which have birthed from this journey. For me, you have been a midwife; I imagine you too are giving birth.

You have touched me deeply. Thank you...May you be happy...May you be healthy....May you be peaceful....May you know LOVE...Namaste

Day 39: Sacred Space

"The Celtic tradition honors the nearness and every day presence of the Divine...God is to be found by looking deeply into life." Jerry Wright, Minister and Jungian Analyst.

"God is to be found looking deeply into life."

Looking deeply into life...Deeply into life...
Into life...Life...

All of life is an opening to God. Pouring coffee in the morning, driving to work, listening to a friend, cooking dinner, walking the dog, crying over a sad movie, laughing with a loved one, getting angry, making love,...God is to be found looking deeply into life.

We need not travel far, or look for God "out there." The Celts were aware of the "radical imminence of God." Jerry Wright believes, "God is not a 'Being,' but BEING itself; the animating presence of all life."

What beautiful imagery. How easy it can be to lose sight of this radical imminence. Life takes over and we forget the divinity in each breath. Emotions grip us and we forget to lean into them with the loving support of the "Animating Presence." Such is the path of the human.

Rabbi Rami Shapiro says it well, "Remembering and Forgetting is my spiritual path." And so it is.

For many of us, creating a daily ritual is a touchstone, reminder of the "imminence of God." Others also have designated space in their homes or apartments where they go to commune with God.

I have an old chest underneath a window overlooking a garden. Placed on the chest are beautiful cards I have been given by Sr. Mary, my sister Kathy, and a iconography of Mary Magdalene painted by one of the sisters at St. Helena. There are also painted stones of Buddhist monks, a chalice made by Kiki at camp years ago, Rhonda's pink rosary beads, mala beads, a gift of sand given by Brendan long ago, a picture of Lama Norlha, a candle from Caroline, an iconography of the trinity from Sandra, an incense holder, a hand painted Ukrainian egg made by Sr. KC, a Celtic cross from Patty, Boomer's purple dog collar, a wooden statue of Mary and Jesus that Mom brought back from Oberammergau, and a prayer shawl made by a retreat participant. This is my altar. In front of the altar is a purple meditation cushion and zafu given as a birthday gift from Malcolm years ago.

Yes, God is found looking deeply into life...in all the moments that make a life. And for me, taking time to light candles, burn incense, sit in silence and honor and acknowledge the Animating Presence is a touchstone in each day. A call to home. A call to forgive. A call to ask forgiveness. A call to love. A call to laugh. A call to cry. A call to BE.

If you have a daily ritual and/or sacred space in your home, take a moment and consider what this ritual/space is and how it feeds you. Could you benefit from "refreshing" it in some way? New candles? A new prayer? Perhaps it is lovely as it is...give thanks.

If you do not have a daily ritual and/or sacred space in your home. I encourage you to take time to create them. Have fun with this. What is meaningful to you? What reminds you of the Sacred?

If you would like any support in putting this together, please feel free to email me at mary@marybeasullivan.com. Enjoy! Namaste

Day 38: Can You Throw Me a Line?

As the sun faded over the tree-lined hills, the glow from the nearly-full moon blazed brighter and brighter. Boat gently rocking on still water, an owl hooting nearby; the shrill cry from an unidentified bird; insects singing their night songs...what a peaceful way to end the day.

Feeling grateful and ready to head home, Malcolm turned the key in the engine...rrrrr...chug...rrrr. Not a comforting sound. He tried again, and again, and again...until the smell of gas alerted us to give the engine a rest.

We were about two miles from home. Before we knew we would be stranded, we had gone out of our way to find a secluded spot on the lake from which to watch the sunset. There were no houses nearby and the temperature was dropping fast. It had been over an hour since we had seen another boat.

Resting the engine for a while, Malcolm tried again....rrrr....chug....chug...rrrr. We were literally dead in the water. Snuggling in close for warmth we tried to console ourselves by focusing on the magnificent array of stars twinkling in the fall sky. We joked that it could be worse, and created a number of those possible scenarios.

Hesitant to "be a bother," we finally found the number for a neighbor and called for help. Luckily, they were here at the lake, and not at their home in Birmingham. We don't know these neighbors well. We have done little, if nothing to promote friendship with them. They immediately offered to come and tow us with their boat. Malcolm thanked them profusely. As we waited, it was easier to enjoy the night sky, knowing help was on the way.

When our neighbors arrived, they pulled up close and threw us a rope to tie to our boat. We chatted amicably while the boat was being secured...learned a little bit about who was staying with them this week...how they had been caring for elderly parents...that their grown children had moved back home. Details of their lives we had not taken any time to learn until this moment, made possible by the rope which now connected us.

Reflecting on the generous spirit of our neighbors I thought about how hard it is for most of us to ask someone to "throw us a rope." Pride, discomfort with vulnerability, not wanting to inconvenience others, and a number of other reasons, make it tough to reach out in our darkest moments.

Conversely, I also thought about a family member who has been asking me to "throw her a line" in a roundabout way. Feeling busy, I haven't taken the time to offer that which might help tow her toward home.

Independence is valued greatly in our world. Yet, it is opening to interdependence that we learn the gentle flow of giving...receiving...giving...receiving...LOVING and LIVING together.

Do you need someone to throw you a line? Are you stuck, sad, hurt and afraid to ask for help? Sit with this...what do you need? who might help you? how could you ask?

Is there someone who has been reaching out for help? How could you offer a hand without feeling resentful?

Well, I need to run next door to deliver my "thank you" gift. I'm looking forward to getting to know my neighbor better. Namaste