interior quietude

Pain, Presence, and Practice

2016-09-14T12:40:00.000-05:00

Today, images of some of my paintings co-mingle

with thoughts on practicing the Presence.

More of my art and style can be discovered

at my site Hello Lovely.

This summer at The Practice
(an experimental gathering

where we immerse ourselves

in God's dream for humanity),

a group of us dared to design

personal experiments to explore:

How would life be different if Christ were fully present?

My own experiment entailed deepening my centering prayer practice

(adding a second evening sit to a daily 20 minute morning sit)

and awakening to Christ’s presence

within my ongoing struggle with anxiety.

I longed for clearer awareness of Christ moving in the pain

of my anxiety and depression and to daily surrender

more of my self.

Words from David Benner came to mind as I

considered how desperately I need to

step away from the tools in my

well-stocked self-transformation arsenal:

“Jesus did not come to encourage our self-transformation schemes. He understood that rather than longing to receive his love in an undefended state, what we really want is to manipulate God to accept us in our false and defended ways of being.”

David Benner

As the summer experiment unfolded, I discovered:

gratitude, pain, and the following fruitful lessons

for living more fully in the Presence.

Letting go and hanging on

are not mutually exclusive.

Shortly after committing to the experiment,

I underwent treatment for Chronic Migraine,

and it became necessary to eliminate

all pain relievers as well as

my anti-anxiety prescription.

While my intent was to see Christ moving within the anxiety,

I had not planned on the added variables of naked sobriety

and throbbing migraine!

Already acquainted with the challenges

of letting go

in contemplative practice—the greater

challenge for me proved to be

hanging on

to the anchor of Divine Love

while letting go of pain relief and self.

The depth of my longing matters.

As my strength failed, my longing

to experience the Presence deepened.

It seems I am able to live in gratitude

and prayer when wellness is

in adequate supply;

yet my heart burns brighter

with desire when that supply is diminished.

In the upside down kingdom,

my weakness is my wealth,

and like the blind beggar Bartimaeus

(Mark 10:46),

my desperation

somehow is prosperous.

Living fully is not the same

as living comfortably.

During the experiment, there were lonely, depleted, and stressed-out days which felt anything but full…ugly pity parties where my outlook turned cynical, the path to gratitude hidden.

I felt locked out of the garden with amnesia for hope.

Yet I kept seeking grace.

I kept surrendering

this stone heart in my practice.

I brought the stone imperfectly

with its cranky edges

to trustworthy friends

who prayed over me.

I persevered in releasing conscious mental chatter

into the mysterious cloud of centering prayer.

Here’s the thing.

While the physical pain did not lift,

in the waiting,

divine light changed its shape.

As tears replaced bitterness,

I experienced Christ emerging

as the SALT in those tears.

This just never gets old.

It is to be ushered into a lighter realm

of heart-fullness with clean, new eyes.

Where Jesus is present,

beauty emerges.

Typically, I sense the Presence most easily

when I am out in nature, but a few days

ago, Christ met me in a mundane chore

while exiting the grocery store.

Beyond 80-years young, she was frail and struggling

to collapse and load her clumsy walker

into a shopping cart.

I watched as the little shopping list

in her fingers floated to the ground,

and before

I could rush over to retrieve it,

she bent painfully low.

I could not take my eyes off her.

She met my gaze as she sighed “It’s not my day.”

When I asked “What can I do to turn it around?”

it was Christ who responded; who touched

my left shoulder with a trembling arthritic hand,

fixed blue irises on mine, and spoke.

“Your smile is enough.”

I pushed my cart away from that place

undone with beauty, freshly aware

of the richness and depth

of the kingdom right under my nose.

What is life like where Christ is fully present?

Mysterious, beautiful, and healing...

qualities I am forever seeking to capture

in the pieces I create for others.

p.s.

An excerpt from Teilhard's The Hymn of the Universe

came alive for me as a result of this summer experiment:

"Suffering holds hidden within it, in extreme intensity, the ascensional force of the world. The whole point is to set this force free by making it conscious of what it signifies and of what it is capable...If all those who suffer in the world were to unite their sufferings so that the pain of the world should become one single grand act of consciousness, of sublimation, of unification, would not this be one of the most exalted forms in which the mysterious work of creation could be manifested to our eyes."

Teilhard de Chardin

Peace to you right where you are.

shipwrecks

2016-06-17T13:31:00.000-05:00

I prefer not to struggle.

I will always opt to sip the Dramamine-Champagne cocktail

on board over mouthfuls of seawater while shipwrecked.

But crashing waves and struggle have much to teach,

and my soul is cherished far too much to be left high and dry.

So I must intentionally let go of my preference for safety

and submit to the flow.

Let go of patterns of self-preservation and self-transformation.

Let go of fear and welcome another opportunity

to be led to a new land.

I am so grateful for brave souls helping us to

make sense of the shipwreck, and the other night

at The Practice it was my pleasure to listen to,

and even chat for a moment--

soul to soul--with Jonathan Martin.

Martin's How to Survive a Shipwreck

offers a tender glimpse of what surrender looks like in those painful, desolate in-between rocky places where it's hard to breathe or see mercy.

Within these pages, I sensed a poetic buoyancy that

filled me with hope.

"Stay a little longer" is nearly impossible for me to vocalize without choking up...perhaps because it delicately conveys such tender longing in the midst of so much global despair right now.

If you are at the moment shipwrecked, I pray

that today, with new eyes, you will begin to see hope is on the way.

I pray you will find inside moments of stillness and quiet,

a gently burning flame which seeks to purify,

enlighten, and accompany you on the journey to shore.

The Contemplative Companion posts by Peter Haas

arriving each morning to my inbox never fail

to point me to that light with heartwhispers like this:

*The images here of our son (age 14 at the time) on a summer boat ride reflect a contemplative state I feel yet cannot adequately name with language...and the balance of images are of

the Japanese Gardens near our home which capture the inner

landscape of beauty to which I am always seeking to return.

Peace to you right where you are.

Mystery and Macarons

2016-04-19T00:11:00.000-05:00

The longer I live, the less I know...

not that Paris can ever TRULY be known.

While visiting in 2012, we mostly did the

flaneur thing...strolling beautiful boulevards

without a particular destination in mind,

wide eyed and awed by the care and

creativity poured into architecture,

fashion, food, and even street protests.

It was intoxicating stuff, and I imbibed

the light and too many baguettes.

We rented an apartment near Notre Dame

to live as though we were true Parisians.

The art and cuisine filled up our fleshy senses;

yet a pervasive spiritual emptiness crept in.

Perfection lit almost every corner,

the French were mostly kind

with our endless faux pas...yet

an undeniable soul disconnect

persisted.

Where does Grace hide when breathtaking beauty

reigns supremely everywhere?

We took in the Royal Opera, historical treasures,

and sculpted gardens, yet their beauty reflected

no divine light for me.

"The grace of God means something like:

Here is your life.

You might never have been, but you are, because

the party wouldn't have been the same without you.

Here is the world.

Beautiful and terrible things will happen.

Don't be afraid. I am with you."

~Frederic Buechner

Reflecting on that trip now, I wonder if

there was within me an unwillingness to

become vulnerable enough to fully welcome in the light.

In a defended state, maybe I resisted allowing

my head to enter my heart while at the

impeccably executed party with the light show

which is Paris.

Maybe as I raced through it all,

I forgot to savor and slow down.

Maybe I missed Grace in Paris because
I avoided stillness and any shadow side of beauty.

Shadow side of beauty? Ha!

If only I had caught a reflection

of myself in a gilded mirror.

"Blessed are the pure of heart,

for they shall see God."

~Matthew 5:8

"Blessed are the poor in spirit."

~Matthew 5:3

What I am learning is that the Divine Presence

is always moving in the flow of pain,

in the suffering, and with the eyes of my soul,

I can glimpse it transforming into joy.

Grace somehow

holds the paradox

of joy and sorrow together...

like buttercream in the center of

a billowy two-sided Paris macaron.

Luscious Grace flavors every bite

with a gentle sweet invitation

to taste, transform,

and share.

Grace is never in short supply.

Its fragrance is everywhere
right here and right now.

Beautiful joy and terrible sorrow happen.

Grace holds them together.

Peace to you right where you are.

love poems to the Divine

2016-03-02T13:05:00.000-06:00

I photographed this decaying mansion we

toured with our realtor last year, and we

seriously considered making it our home

before calculating the monthly

property tax.

The grounds and interiors had stories to tell,

secrets to keep, and just touring the property

moved me into a state of contemplation.

Without inhabitants for many years,

nature was allowed to have its

beautiful way with the structures.

I wonder what might become of our souls

if we became more still to allow

nature's nurturance to come.

Through the leaded glass lens, even the wild

overgrown weeds were to my eyes lovely.

Am I checking my lens often?

Am I being intentional on my journey

to re-fall in love with humanity and God's

creation to keep my heart soft?

Am I seeing it all as sacramental? As integral?

What a charming entrance to escort you in.

Revisiting this tour and Rilke's treasures

inspired me to pen a love poem to God.

(I highly recommend this spiritual exercise

and hope you join me.)

Peace to you right where you are.

hands and feet

2016-01-27T08:50:00.000-06:00

We are his hands and feet.

And feet slip. Hands fumble.

Anxiety surfaces and may grip tightly.

What comfort to turn to David's faith, to the Psalms

for balmy consolation and loving hope.

When our emotional middle ground

crumbles away or fear begins to rise,

we may feel alone, even damaged.

In our depravity, we may long for consolation,

for joy to be restored.

And we may become still and quiet,

seeking the Divine Grounding Presence

with quiet consent:

Yes, God. Have mercy on me,

on these hands and feet that

belong to you.

There we seek a light for our darkness.

A way through the wilderness,

to follow back to unfailing love.

In secret, with slipping feet,

we may return to higher ground,

laying down all those uneven,

rough places in the soul.

How will glory be revealed?
We enter into the mystery

with hearts wide open,
waiting to receive.

Peace to you right where you are.

m

prayer of desolation

2016-01-11T20:20:00.000-06:00

HOLY HOLY GOD, I COME TO YOU IN PIECES.

WITH A HEAVY BLACK SHROUD OF MELANCHOLY

THAT WON’T LIFT THIS DAY.

I KNOW THE SHROUD WELL.

I KNOW ITS VEIL OF INGRATITUDE,

ITS DESOLATION, ITS LONELY TEARS.

THIS DARKNESS SINKS DEEP

INTO TENDER FLESH

AND BENEATH MY BONES.

SINKS DEEPER THAN MY HEART
WHICH IS DARK AS THE OCEAN FLOOR.

I CANNOT SEE.
I CANNOT BREATHE.
AS THE WEIGHT OF SUFFERING
DISFIGURES MY SOUL.

I DESPERATELY LONG TO BE SPARED

OF IT ALL, YET I SEEK GRACE
TO TRUST AND TO TRANSFORM.

BECAUSE I KNOW YOU ARE GOOD
AND MAKE ALL THINGS NEW.

I KNOW YOU ARE WITH ME.

OH, GOD OF GOODNESS AND LOVE, OPEN MY EYES.

COME BREATHE YOUR MERCY ON THESE

SPLINTERS OF HOPELESSNESS SO I MAY

CLAIM THEM AS HOLY SHARDS.

AMEN

*Prayer and images by michele

expanding our prayer palette

2016-01-02T21:48:00.000-06:00

From time to time, I will recommend books

relating to interior quietude...today's selection

is about prayer.

My prayer life has long been rich and full of wonder, but since

I began a daily centering prayer practice last year,

a brand new inner landscape of beauty has emerged.

Centering prayer is but one delicious entree

in David Brazzeal's creatively scrumptious

Pray Like a Gourmet

which challenges us to savor prayerful

courses as we might enjoy

a fine French meal.

Brazzeal's writing style is engaging and accessible,

and it's refreshing to be introduced

to so many artful avenues...

all with the intent of leading us

into deeper communion

with the divine.

For example, I learned how a simple French game

of hide-and-seek (Cache-cache) can become

an adventure in discovering God

hiding in the world around us

(and he surely wants to be found!).

"Learn to listen to subtle cues from your spirit instead of the barrage coming from your brain." ~David Brazzeal

the author makes his home in France

What an inspired book of uncommon prayers!

Disclosure of Material Connection: I received this book free from the author and/or publisher through the Speakeasy blogging book review network. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. I am disclosing this in accordance with the Federal Trade Commission’s 16 CFR,Part 255.

* * *

Curious about a centering prayer practice?

Here is a brief description of centering prayer

(sometimes called Contemplative Prayer).