Daily Devotion - April 29
I will send a brief message each day (except Mondays)
while we are pausing gathering in person.
- Kara
while we are pausing gathering in person.
- Kara
I like when things are easy to distinguish, clear, unambiguous. Especially my emotions. This is not what I am getting these days. How can I feel like things are more complicated and draining than ever, and ALSO simpler and easier? How can I be both mourning and hopeful? How can things seem both shocking and unreal, and also completely normal and ordinary?
If I pick individual ingredients out of the stew of me, I am apparently, simultaneously, frustrated, energized, weary, grateful, sad, and content.
What?!?
In talking about what life has been like these past few weeks with my spiritual director today, I found myself sharing all sorts of joyful moments, moments of connection, and play, and rest, and fun. They just kept bubbling up and out of me. Then I said aloud, "Maybe I am afraid to talk about the hard stuff so I am just telling you all the good things?" And I sat and thought a minute, and no, these are what I wanted to share. Gratitude for these things is what I was genuinely feeling. She watched me do all this through the screen, and then she asked, "What does it feel like to relish the joy and delight?"
Good grief.
Turns out it's WAY harder for me to "relish joy" than to wallow in despair. When I try to receive the gifts I am being given in the midst of this, I can get very judgmental. Here are some of the things I immediately say to myself (which, by the way, I would never say to - or even think about - someone else):
If I enjoy it, am I selfish? What about all those genuinely suffering? Not just the terrified sick and the exhausted frontline workers, but those without food, or job, or safety, or stability... Can I feel happy in this when there are those whose suffering has been exacerbated tenfold by the societal change that has meant being trapped at home with someone abusive, or without the support of teachers and the two school meals a day, or with your own demons that roar up and take over when not carefully tended?
What does it say about me if I let myself have fun right now? That I'm out of touch? That I am glad this happened? That I don't miss what life was or want it to go back to "normal"? That I don't wish I could look toward the future - I'm ok with this weird perpetual present?
What does it say about me if I let myself have fun right now? That I'm out of touch? That I am glad this happened? That I don't miss what life was or want it to go back to "normal"? That I don't wish I could look toward the future - I'm ok with this weird perpetual present?
Turns out it's WAY easier for me to ignore and dismiss my pleasant, enjoyable emotions than my unpleasant, painful emotions. Huh.
I've done a lot of work in my life making space for unpleasant emotions, recognizing the gift they bring and the importance of feeling them. But I haven't done as much work around the pleasurable, lighter emotions. I've acted as though those don't matter as much. As though those don't provide just as much information, just as much depth, just as much capacity to teach, and change, and grow me as the darker, heavier feelings do.
Today she made me sit in the gratitude.
She said, "Make space for it to get as big as it wants to."
It got big. It wanted more space than my body could hold and it spilled out my eyes.
Evidently, amidst the loss, sorrow, worry, fatigue, empathy and anxiety about the future, I have also been feeling a surprising amount of joy and gratitude, for the gifts of insight, beauty, connection, contribution, mutuality, play, creativity and cooperation that keep popping their lovely heads up through the clouds each day.
I am going to work on tasting each emotion - and relishing the pleasurable ones.
Here is my (re)learning for today - (with a slightly different emphasis).
This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.
A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
They may be clearing you out
for some new delight.
The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.
— Rumi, The Guest House
CONNECTING RITUAL:
There are three different options for this prayer exercise below. One alone spoken, one alone writen, and one to do with others in your home.
Perhaps, today at dinner, or at the end of the day, whatever time that is in each of our homes, we might pray in this way, and so join our hearts:
GRATITUDE PRAYER
This prayer is a mind-wandering, free-association gratitude-fest. No limits.
It can be a powerful experience alone – like taking an extra deep breath and feeling air in the way bottom of your lungs where you almost never let it reach. It’s expanding and cleansing, and also rearranges your insides back to how they were meant to sit, and you’ll find you rest deeper and more authentically.
It’s a very different, but just a wonderful, experience, when done with kids.
Alone
You can do this in the silence of your heart or in spoken aloud words, but do it alone somewhere (even if that means sitting on the bathroom floor to get away from your family). Inside, outside, walking, sitting, figure out what works for you this day; you could also do it in the dark, after you’ve laid down to sleep, and simply close however you wish.
Begin:
Thank you God, for…
And say the first thing that comes to mind, and then the next, and see where it takes you. Whenever you reach a quiet heart, take a deep, cleansing breath in and blow it slowly out, and begin again.
After it feels complete, close with these words:
The blessings of heaven,
the blessings of earth,
the blessings both ordinary and sublime,
on those I love, this day,
and on every human family.
The gifts of heaven,
the gifts of earth,
the gifts both ordinary and sublime.
Amen.
Alone - written
This is a list-writer’s delight. Simply begin by writing:
Thank you God, for…
And say the first thing that comes to mind, and then the next, and see where it takes you. Whenever you reach quiet, take a deep, cleansing breath in and blow it slowly out, and begin again.
After it feels complete, Close with these words:
The blessings of heaven,
the blessings of earth,
the blessings both ordinary and sublime,
on those I love, this day,
and on every human family.
The gifts of heaven,
the gifts of earth,
the gifts both ordinary and sublime.
Amen.
With family
Tell those you gather with that you are going to do a thank you feast. You are going to start thanking God for something. And then sharing every single thing that comes to mind, whether small or big, gets to be said aloud. If it helps to go in a circle, feel free, otherwise, popcorn-style works. Some families need a bit more structure, so it would help to say, “Each person gets a turn, so when you have something , you say,
“Thank you God, for…"
And everyone responds, Thanks God!
And then it is the next person’s turn.
Keep taking turns thanking God for things. Let yourself go beyond your comfort zone, ie, past where you feel like wrapping it up (or stopping the kids). See if you can get all the way to a lull and see what might come next.
When things wind down and seem to be ending, close with these words:
The blessings of heaven,
the blessings of earth,
the blessings both ordinary and sublime,
on those we love, this day,
and on every human family.
The gifts of heaven,
the gifts of earth,
the gifts both ordinary and sublime.
Amen.
(closing blessing adapted from J Philip Newell)
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