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Category: Musings of a Mystic

Prayer as a Practice

Prayer as a Practice

 

I have always prayed.  As a young girl I remember very clearly having an internal dialogue with my guardian angels. I spoke to them often and asked for their guidance and intervention on numerous occasions. I also recall saying the Lord’s Pray anytime that I was frightened, which was quite often given the house I grew up in and my natural proclivity to be anxious and fearful. In addition, prayer was an open point of discussion in my childhood home and nothing outside of the realm of usual family activities.  

 

As happens in so many family stories, I stretched my independence muscles a little too vigorously and found myself out on my own at twenty with my newborn daughter. My husband had no formal practice for prayer and often teased me about this seamless connection I had developed between this world and the next.  I spoke much differently than he did about angels and the sharing of energy which only deepened the divide between us.  Being young and ignorant to the feminine power that I had, I became submissive on this topic and stopped openly practicing what I knew to be true. Regardless, that rich inner dialogue that had been developed in my childhood could not be silenced and I continually prayed and asked for guidance for the many challenges that faced me.

 

As the years passed and I was blessed with another beautiful child, I decided to lay the foundation by speaking openly with my children about their guardian angels and the importance of energy. Rarely did I ever take them to church, but if asked they will tell you they always knew me to be a spiritual person. I was well aware of my responsibility for the children’s spiritual growth but choose to impart it in my own unique way much to the chagrin of my parents. Reflecting back, I believe this period of time to be my first foray into mysticism and all that it means to be constantly questioning and developing a personal relationship with spirit. I did not know that was where I was ultimately headed; I only knew that it felt right.

 

Morning Prayer of the Optina Elders

O Lord, grant that I may meet all that this coming day brings to me with spiritual tranquility. Grant that I may fully surrender myself to Thy holy Will.

At every hour of this day, direct and support me in all things. Whatsoever news may reach me in the course of the day, teach me to accept it with a calm soul and the firm conviction that all is subject to Thy holy Will.

Direct my thoughts and feelings in all my words and actions. In all unexpected occurrences, do not let me forget that all is sent down from Thee.

Grant that I may deal straightforwardly and wisely with every member of my family, neither embarrassing nor saddening anyone.

O Lord, grant me the strength to endure the fatigue of the coming day and all the events that take place during it. Direct my will and teach me to pray, to believe, to hope, to be patient, to forgive, and to love.

Amen.

 

During some of my most difficult years of transformation, my father sent me a prayer as he often did to soothe me. This particular prayer, the Morning Prayer of the Optina Elders, can still be found on my refrigerator door. When moving around my kitchen, my eyes typically fall on these two phrases, “Direct my thoughts and feelings in all my words and actions. In all unexpected occurrences, do not let me forget that all is sent down from Thee. Grant that I may deal straightforwardly and wisely with every member of my family, neither embarrassing nor saddening anyone.” What powerful words to read many times over and internalize.

 

When faced with difficulties it becomes so easy to only think of self rather than those around us.  Our thoughts exist in a constant loop of analysis and those surrounding us can get lost in the noise.  Belief that all is sent down by a higher power, whether you profess to this or not, is a comfort when the world feels very much out of control. I also pause each time I read the last few words, “neither embarrassing nor saddening anyone”, so hard to do when feeling wronged.  It is much easier to think angry thoughts about those that have chosen to be hurtful without any consideration. It is only natural to want to defend self, but does this have to mean saddening another? 

 

It is a bit embarrassing to have been concerned with the human problem all one’s life and find at the end that one has no more to offer by way of advice than ‘try to be a little kinder.’

-Aldous Huxley

 

I continue to study this prayer each time my eyes find it among the other refrigerator decor. I linger just a bit longer and try to read each word with new eyes. Reading is often followed by a sigh of recognition and a promise to begin anew, no matter what is troubling me, a prayer for the ages and one that I will continue to cherish for many years to come.

 

The Interplay of the Lotus Flower and Water

The Interplay of the Lotus Flower and Water

 

I have written about my name before and have spent much time coming to terms with the uniqueness and self imposed expectations of such a name.  My parents have always reminded me that Lavinia means “pure of heart” and I continually marvel at how connected to this definition I have become, given the many difficult life experiences wearing on me. It is a paradoxical feeling and one that continues to confound me.

 

As one that has always held a mystical sensibility in my heart, I have stumbled through life at times unsure of what it all means. The fabric of my life story has set the scene in every way for this apparent uncertainty; my parents with their insatiable interest in religious practice both mainstream and otherwise, my shyness coupled with a deep feeling of connection to things outside of myself, my early foray into an intimate relationship before I knew what it meant to give my heart to another, raising my children as a young woman myself, experiencing betrayal that left me broken in every way and finally discovering the path towards my true self and healing. All along I have held the belief that I am meant for something that I cannot yet define or describe in any meaningful way.

 

“The business and method of mysticism is love.”

Evelyn Underhill

 

In my dreams and deepest of thoughts, water has consistently made an appearance as a metaphor for my life. Constantly ebbing and flowing, sometimes gentle and sometimes rough, water being the epitome of a lifelong spiritual journey holding many secrets below the surface. Similarly, the lotus flower with its delicate and independent beauty strikes me as a physical manifestation of the possibilities along the way. The flower floats quietly on the water alone and unconstrained yet under the current is bound by a complex system of roots secured in the muddy dirt below. The flower blooms each day facing the sun in beautiful repose, yet must shrink back into the depths of the water at night and into the darkness. The contrast of moving back and forth between the darkness and the light is symbolic of a well examined life in a multitude of ways.

 

I mule over this relationship of the flower to the water quite often and cannot help but see myself in this coupling.  Referencing my name and as one that feels the purity of the human spirit very deeply, I have struggled just as the flower does each and every day to find the right way to experience the light while not allowing the darkness to become overwhelming. Water, as an agent of enduring love, supports me on this journey but does not change the system in which I exist. Rather, water is the companion that remains with me, side by side as I struggle with all that it means to live a meaningful and full life. The flower could not exist without the water and I am nothing without my connection to spirit and all that remains pure in my heart.

 

“Beauty as we feel it is something indescribable; what it is or what it means can never be said.”

–  George Santayana   

 

This analogy demonstrates beautifully that while everyone has darkness, muddy roots and entanglements, we each have the opportunity to bloom towards the light no matter the circumstance.  This blooming does not have to be abrupt, loud or imposing.  It can be subtle, gentle and unobtrusive yet elegant in completion.  I don’t have to make huge waves in my life trying to live up to my name, I can be happy with small victories that at times are only visible to myself. Isn’t that the way life is? No one truly ever knows another’s struggles, battles or victories unless we choose to share them.  We are all lotus flowers floating on the pond of life, entangled and held by our life stories yet we find ways to share our gifts with the world blooming each in our own unique and beautiful way.  

We All Have Hard Days

We All Have Hard Days

 

 

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,

Black as the Pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

Finds, and shall find, me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate:

I am the captain of my soul.

—William Ernest Henley

 

I am a strong person, this I know.  My hardships are nothing in comparison to others who have walked a much more challenging path.  I know this and am incredibly thankful for everything in my life.  I manage to be cheerful and optimistic most of the time but every sunny day has to be balanced by some darkness in order to fully appreciate the light when it once again returns. Everything is in the balance.

My darker days are the ones in which I question why I have been given the burdens that I have.  I see others that can pick up and travel at a moments notice, stay up all night until the sun comes out and see the sunrise with sleepy eyes.  I see families spending the day at the park and chasing children in the grass, running with total abandon.  I question why I married someone that didn’t love me and why I stayed for so long. I think about the oddity of my personality, one that is a loner in every sense of the word yet enjoys and needs people. I ruminate over my nutritional and physical needs in comparison to others who have such a laissez–faire attitude about the same. I ponder these things inevitably sinking into the “woe is me” mentality.  For someone as optimistic as myself, this is foreign territory and quite frankly, it scares me every time I find myself in this position.

On days like these I often read the poem Invictus by William Ernest Henley and find solace in the story of perseverance and strength. I specifically read over and over the passage that states, “It matters not how strait the gate, how charged with punishments the scroll, I am the master of my fate: I am the captain of my soul”. I am reminded that I am in control of how I view my circumstance.  I can choose to view it through a lens of disadvantage, hardship and illness or I can choose to view it through a lens of joy, beauty and love.  The choice has been and will always be mine. When in the throes of a MS relapse, being so fatigued I can hardly get out of bed, I can view this hardship as an opportunity.  Severe fatigue allows for a greater appreciation of rest.  I value the time I spend talking with my loved ones while I rest on the couch, reading a book that had been set aside or simply sitting with someone without distraction.  In this sense, restful periods can be received as a gift.

 

Let nothing disturb you,

Let nothing frighten you,

All things are passing away:

God never changes.

Patience obtains all things

Whoever has God lacks nothing;

God alone suffices.

           

— St. Teresa of Avila

 

It is absolutely true that we all have periods of distress and self-doubt.  If someone appears perennially optimistic, I wonder what lies beneath.  Yes, I cry tears of frustration and sadness and I also have times of anger when I shout to the heavens, “Why me?!”.  Admittedly these times often happen in the privacy of my room, usually in the shower so that those I care about are not alarmed by my outburst.  That being said, it is a grave disservice to others who may be struggling to pretend that I do not feel darkness.

 
In my case, I choose to release the emotions that are too heavy for me to bear, regroup and move forward.  I rely on my support network when I am not able to support myself and I pray.  I pray for strength, guidance and for angels to walk with me if this is indeed the path that has been laid out before me. I accept what I cannot change, albeit begrudgingly, and look to what is joyful in my life. As in Invictus, I am the master of my fate and the captain of my soul and knowing this lifts me up when I feel down. Find your Invictus and let it’s words be your support. We all need a little help once in awhile.

Loving One Another

Loving One Another

 

Love One Another

Love one another, but make not a bond of love.

Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.

Fill each other’s cup, but drink not from one cup.

Give one another of your bread, but eat not from the same loaf.

Sing and dance together and be joyous, but let each one of you be alone.

Even as the strings of a lute are alone though they quiver with the same music.

Give your hearts, but not into each other’s keeping.

For only the hand of life can contain your hearts.

And stand together, yet not too near together.

For the pillars of the temple stand apart.

And the oak tree and the cypress grow not in each other’s shadow.

-Khalil Gibran

 

On this day in which we celebrate all aspects of love, I find myself reflecting on ways in which I have personally experienced this powerful emotion. More often than not, love has been the driving force in many of my life decisions and directions. It has taken a process of growth and maturity to discern the various presentations of love and one that I continue to focus intently on even today.

 

My story is not a unique one. I come from a large and loving family. Yes, we have our differences, but we genuinely care for one another. As a young child, I recall bearing witness to the great love that my mother and father have, yet at the same time not having the benefit of discussion about what it meant to deeply love another. It was in every way, an education by example. Born into this caring environment I had no reference for the difference between infatuation and love, that lesson was yet to come.

 

Given my innate curiosity, in my teenage years I was attracted to the darker side of infatuation and unknowingly feel into its grasp. The man that would become my husband was much older than myself and had already experienced many things in life. Not being able to discern the difference between lust and love, I was completely drawn in by this relationship and felt trapped by my conservative moral obligations. It was not a healthy relationship, in fact it was quite damaging for me on many levels. Similarly, as one the connects very deeply with anyone I choose to give my heart too, it took great strength and will power to unravel these connections as well as two decades of my life to be completely free from the grip of infatuation.  

 

Thankfully, I did not leave this relationship without having experienced true love in some form. Having given birth to two children by the age of 24, I was deeply blessed to experience the unconditional love of mother to child. I am forever thankful for the opportunity to continually engage my heart in the way God intended in loving these children. If not for them I do not believe I would have felt alive during the darker years of my marriage, the despair was that intense. They are two beautiful angels that have held my heart when I could not find the strength on my own. That is love in every sense of the word.

 

“Only from the heart can you touch the sky.”

-Rumi

 

Recently, beginning a new adventure that requires bravery and some faith, I find myself feeling tentative and protective of where I have come from and where I now stand. In reading the poem by Khalil Gibran, I identified with a common theme that speaks directly to my current state of affairs. Loving another is not remotely the same as ownership, it is a partnership that allows for both parties to breathe, grow and be uniquely themselves.  It is being one half of a whole and at the same time separate and apart. In a healthy love there should be no loss of self, not degradation of the other, just a gentle and persistent lifting up. When one falters, the other steps up and carries the weight of life’s many challenges until balance is regained. That being said, a loving partnership cannot and should not be one sided. It takes both people choosing to show up authentically every day, willing participants in a transformative experience for both heart and soul. One person alone cannot carry the work of the relationship; this is neither healthy nor prudent.

 

Love is also accepting a partner, child or family member for everything they are not, without stipulation.  It is easy to love others for their strengths, but quite another to show up each day and see the shadow side of a loved one.  Each of us has this side that we hide from the world.  It takes a strong and trusting relationship to pull the shadow out of the darkness and explore ways to support one another in that discovery.  

 

Finally, as Gibran so eloquently writes “Love one another, but make not a bond of love. Let it rather be a moving sea between the shores of your souls.” I wish nothing more than to have my soul connect deeply with another.  It is within the expansive and flowing nature of water that love is best demonstrated, moving and morphing against life’s many continental conditions. Love finds a way to erode the walls that we erect and seep into our souls, breathing new life and hope. What a beautiful thing to behold.

 

Unfolding

Unfolding

 

I Am Much Too Alone in This World, Yet Not Alone

Rainer Maria Rilke, 1875 – 1926

I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
   enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
   enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.

I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everday jug,
like my mother’s face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.

 

Having lived a life with many chapters, I find that I still constrict parts of myself that are true in an effort to maintain the status quo, to function in this world as it is. This “folding’ of self is a self imposed confinement of all that make me a wonderful and unique person.  Just as a caterpillar endures restriction in order to experience a true metamorphosis into a butterfly, I too have found patience in this process with the knowing that I will indeed completely unfold as Rilke states in the poem above.

 

This unfolding will be unsteady and foreign for anyone that has lived a small existent, presenting as less than to the world.  Fully accepting our true self and infinite wholeness can be so expansive and vast it becomes frightening. Why this fear? I do not know.  We live with the desire to be seen and heard, to live large, make a difference and achieve goals.  Yet when talking about our true self, we shy away from the discourse and choose instead to talk about more concrete desires. It is just too revealing and anything that is that intimate can be intimidating and difficult to approach.

 

Admittedly, I have grazed this topic for many years. Even as a child I remember quite vividly knowing that I had a different perspective on what was important and how I viewed the world.  I have always danced around my inner self, my soul. She and I are old friends and over the years have become more connected, functioning in unison more often than not. We are one in the same, mirror images of each other.

 

This self study from an early age is best described by Rilke with “..I want to describe myself like a picture I observed for a long time, one close up”.  My picture is well worn on the corners from many years of introspection and detailed examination. It is a visual representation of my life thus far. This self-portrait shows all areas of my life in which I have clung to my faith during times of complete and utter sadness and despair. It is also representative of the many joys that have graced my life, far too many to express here. No picture is complete without the shading of both darkness and light.

 
This does not mean that I have a complete understanding of self, I am not sure that is even possible. I can only hope that I have had more instances of unfolding instead of constriction and that this will continue to be the case moving forward. My wish is to be expansive and open, to escape the bonds of self-doubt and to move freely through the remainder of my life with my heart and soul wide open.

Head Versus Heart

Head Versus Heart

As one that is both an emotional being and a deeply intellectual thinker, I am in a constant search for the proper balance between the two approaches to life. My natural inclination is to lean into what my hearts says and follow my intuition, but even so this leaning is always peppered with a fair amount of intellectual analysis and strategizing of end results. This push and pull can be limiting and a place I try not to inhabit for very long.  Life having the sense of humor that it does, this analysis usually happens in the middle of the night when my mind is more prone to wander. As such, I am a frequent guest of sleepless nights and find solace in the wakefulness and introspection.   

 

Upon reading a poem by Rainer Maria Rilke I was immediately drawn to the first sentence, specifically “O Anxious one”. Anxiety is ever present when I allow my mind to take the lead and neglect the very important role of the heart.  The problem being the mind is extremely clever and can come up with a million eventualities before an event has even taken place.  If I resist this catastrophizing and allow my heart to lead, I am at peace with the unfolding and feel a sense of calm that the mind does not make space for.  This poem is a simple and beautiful way to facilitate a gentle drawing back to a state of equilibrium, especially in moments when the mind stubbornly races along.

                           

   I am, O Anxious One. Don’t you hear my voice

surging forth with all my earthly feelings?

They yearn so high, that they have sprouted wings

and whitely fly in circles round your face.

My soul, dressed in silence, rises up

and stands alone before you: can’t you see?

don’t you know that my prayer is growing ripe

upon your vision as upon a tree?

If you are the dreamer, I am what you dream.

But when you want to wake, I am your wish,

and I grow strong with all magnificence

and turn myself into a star’s vast silence

above the strange and distant city, Time.

   

Rainer Maria Rilke

 

In addition, the sentence that reads “My soul, dressed in silence, rises up and stands alone before you: can’t you see?” is like home to me. My soul is in a constant interplay with the exterior world, harboring a desire for others to “see” me by searching the silence of what remains unspoken within.  This is no easy task.  It is as if I am shouting from the top of a mountain to be seen, yet all the while hiding behind a cloud daring to be discovered. I suspect that when another chooses to look beyond my external self, they will begin to see shades of this declaration and be confused by my apparent waiving. The truth is that no amount of intellectual analysis alone will reveal the truths that I harbor.  Engagement of the heart requires a vulnerability that is not approached when using only the brain. This heart work requires strength of character, the ability to live in the discomfort of this space and even some grace. It is in the exposing of hidden truths that one really learns about themselves and about others, a lifelong task and one that is meaningful for all willing to dive in and take the risk.

 

You’ve got to get out of your head and into your heart. Right now your thoughts are in your head, and God seems to be outside you. Your prayer and all your spiritual exercises also remain exterior. As long as you are in your head, you will never master your thoughts, which continue to whirl around your head like snow in a winter’s storm or like mosquitoes in the summer heat. If you descend into your heart, you will have no more difficulty. Your mind will empty out and your thoughts will dissipate….

St Theophan the Recluse

 

As part of my journey, I continue to search for that balance.  Sometimes I lean into my heart as intended and other times I allow my brain to completely run the show.  Fascinating how we all choose to cope given any particular circumstance. Constantly striving for this balance, I will be silently drawn to the discovery of hidden truths; the simplicity of this affirmation is humbling. I find comfort in the solitude of this work with the intention to listen to my heart speak in the silence. For me this end is well worth the struggle.

Hadewijch II and the Blessing of the Written Word

Hadewijch II and the Blessing of the Written Word

 

I recently discovered the writings of Hadewijch II, a 13th century poet and mystic, and proceeded to order every book possible about this fascinating woman. History says little about her save the belief that she was from a wealthy family but chose to join the beguines, a group of evangelical women existing outside the traditional monastic system. These women took vows of poverty, chastity and service but remained in the world rather than hidden away in a monastery.

 

A strong believer in the synchronicity of the universe, Hadewijch could not have come to my attention at a better time. I have been feeling exceptionally isolated in regards to my ideas and life. I have a persistent thought there is so much more to life than my routine,  job, family and assembled reality. Frustrated by this nagging feeling, I have been more contemplative than usual, which is saying a lot. It is easy for me to get lost in my thoughts; it is much harder to pull myself back into the world. It would be disingenuous if I said I had never considered hiding away, off the grid and away from people.

 

Hadewijch wrote so expressively about her expansive knowing, the depth and wonder of feeling the infinite beyond what is seen. I read her poem and connected immediately; she understood what I have been feeling.  It spoke to me so directly that I got deeply emotional knowing that others felt as I do. I closed my eyes and experienced this energy wanting to expand beyond my skin, these walls and this world. It is this infinite and divine energy that stirs me up and can make me anxious while at the same time serenely peaceful. I implicitly understand that what I am searching for is within and not in some other place; we are all Divine beings and as much a part of the universe as the stars and the moon. No amount of geographic relocation will solve this persistent longing; it will surely follow me wherever I go. Hadewijch felt this very same thing yet managed to navigate the world without allowing this feeling to suffocate her. For that I admire her strength and courage.

 

All things

are too small

to hold me,

I am so vast

 

In the Infinite

I reach

for the Uncreated

I have

touched it,

it undoes me

wider than wide

Everything else

is too narrow

You know this well,

you who are also there

-Hadewijch II

 

Even so, I am confident that I can manage the restrictive feeling of this world. If you have read my work, you have heard me speak to this before. I have no doubts and have always known that I am not from this place. Some will judge me simply by reading that last statement, I am not concerned nor ever have been with their judgment. I know, and that is all that matters. The frustration comes from not being able to completely own this other while I am here. I can look inward and do all of the “mirror” work that Hadewijch speaks to, but even that will not be enough. It is a longing as if for a loved one with a constant desire to be with them. I hate this world at times; it is not anything like this beautiful other. No, I am not sad, nor am I being reticent. All I know is that I am here now for reasons that must be important for my soul.

 

You who want

knowledge,

seek the Oneness

within.

 

There you

will find

the clear mirror

already waiting.

-Hadewijch II

 

I do not find many others that see this as I do; in fact I rarely speak aloud about these things. It most certainly sounds crazy to those that do not have the same sensibility. So what am I to do? How do I live while feeling this constant pull to what I cannot fully embrace? I suppose that answer is as always held in my heart. I must persist in this word and continue day after day waiting for the moment when I am free of this shell and can shed my false self to be…infinite. It is in works by Hadewijch that I find respite, a brief moment of serenity.  This woman, who graced the planet so many years ago, is still able to share her love and belief through her words. I will continue to read her writing every time I feel lost, isolated and alone. It will be a tremendous comfort to me as I am sure it has been to others.

 

Honoring the Work of the Dying

Honoring the Work of the Dying

 

Of late it seems as if an abnormally larger number or acquaintances have someone they love passing on from this world to the next. I am aware of no less than five people with family members in hospice and any number of others who have lost a loved one without the benefit of a long goodbye.  I am not sure why this is the case, but my sense is that people, as energetic beings, may be ready to let go of this world. This may most specifically apply to those already fighting a terminal illness. Why linger, after living a full and loving life, with so much unrest looming on the horizon?

This increase in bereavement requires a focus on support by those that are sensitive to others emotions, specifically grief. Having sat with any number of people as they pass, I can say without hesitation that dying is hard work. In most cases it is not the beautiful embrace of a peaceful other but rather a long and arduous letting go of the body so that spirit can move on. If never having had the benefit of sitting with a soul as it passes, this may come as an unpleasant shock. The reason it is so shocking is simply because people do not talk about death out loud.  Maybe in hushed tones and with hallmark cards sent to those suffering, but not often in conversation.  The meaningful talk about death is reserved for those that already have a level of comfort with the process and are able to communicate loving emotions outward.

 

Death ends a life, not a relationship.”

― Mitch Albom, Tuesdays with Morrie

 

That being said, the fact remains that we are all terminal and no one is getting out alive.  When I hear the word terminal associated with an illness, I can’t help but wonder if the vocabulary is wrong.  Terminal illness is just an illness with an ending point at which the body will let go and the soul will be set free. Living life half-heartedly can be seen as a terminal condition, at least in my book, as can making poor choices that cause harm to our physical bodies.  The question is clearly not if we will die, but when.

People like to feel in control and in this very important area of a life, we have absolutely no control.  We can do everything “right” and die in an instant.  No control ushers in fear which than ushers in denial.  If we don’t talk about it, maybe it will not happen. This is an impossibility as we will all ultimately have our day.

 

“The fear of death follows from the fear of life. A man who lives fully is prepared to die at any time.”

― Mark Twain

 

Anytime one has the opportunity to sit with another as they begin the hard work of letting go, they should feel honored and blessed for the experience. Each time one is able to provide comfort, a personal strength is earned that can be carried over into living.  The fear of the process will let go its grip ever so slightly and a renewed appreciation for living may surface. That to me is the beauty of death, it reminds us all how to live. No matter what the circumstance, I have never felt more alive than when I have been witness to death. Death is so permanent for our physical existence that it cannot help but evoke the wonder of being granted another morning, another chance to say “I love you”, another sunset.  

 

“It is nothing to die. It is frightful not to live.”

― Victor Hugo, Les Misérables

 

If you have a loved one doing the hard work of dying right now, know that you have support and are not alone.  Find someone in your circle of family and friends that is not afraid to walk this road with you. Embrace each moment with your loved one and each transition as they slowly let go. Fear not sitting with them as they begin to breathe irregularly and make sure to let them know that it is okay to go. Tell them over and over that you love them and always will. Love is timeless whether the beloved is here or in spirit. Honor the last opportunities for togetherness and the loneliness thereafter, taking the necessary time to grieve. In due time, approach your remaining life with a renewed hope and optimism. Life is so beautiful, so fragile and so holy.

Resilience

Resilience

 

I have been reading Elie Wiesel’s Night once again and am struck by Mr. Wiesel’s ability to move past what were most certainly evils beyond comprehension. His capacity to find purpose and strength while living a full and productive life, was truly remarkable.  Mr. Wiesel never forgot what happened to him, and wrote quite eloquently about the camps leaving a valuable historical artifact for generations to come. What then allowed him to wake up each morning and approach the day with renewed optimism? The single most important character trait I believe Mr. Wiesel possessed was resilience, the capacity to recover and move on from difficulties. He obviously made a conscience decision to live wholeheartedly, while still bearing the weight and scars of his experiences.  Painful memories do not just go away, they only fade with time.  I can only imagine what may have haunted him throughout his life.   

 

“I pray to the God within me that He will give me the strength to ask Him the right questions.”

― Elie Wiesel, Night

 

How do we transfer this model of resilience and utilize it in our own lives? Further, have you ever meet someone that seemed stuck in reverse, unable to move past a traumatic series of events or to leave behind what has not served them?  It is difficult lending support to someone in this position knowing that they alone are in control of their destiny; they alone have the power to move forward, but for some reason do not. The justifications for this puzzling behavior are many, but lack of resilience is absolutely one possible factor

My personal belief is that resilience is seeded in the belief that there is a Divine power with us at all times. This provides strength when we have none, hope when we no longer see the light and comfort in the darkest of times.  For me, resilience is integrated with my faith and it seems that for Mr. Wiesel this may also have been the case. Faith does not mean blindly accepting difficulties, rather it is standing up to these challenges whatever they may be, while still holding on to the belief of Divine support.  This does not in any way mean I believe that these evils are all a part of a larger plan or purpose.  I simply believe that given whatever circumstances one befalls in life, we are supported by a love that is greater than the environment that surrounds us.

 

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one which has been opened for us.”

-Helen Keller

 

Resilience is demonstrated most beautifully when making the choice to move towards love rather than dwell in darkness. It sounds simple, but in practice it can be excruciatingly difficult. Faced with atrocities that are beyond anything one could imagine, it takes great character to look for and see the light. It also takes great determination and willpower to consciously decide to show up each day with optimism. What we can learn from people such as Mr. Wiesel, Helen Keller and many of the great mystics is that it is not if one will experience darkness in life, it is when. Obviously some have seen far more heartbreak and sadness than others, but the true measure of resilience still lies in one’s ability to rise above a circumstance no matter how bleak.

 

“When I stopped to take a breath, I noticed I had wings.”

― Jodi Livon

 

The study of mysticism has been pivotal in my understanding of this.  By viewing my “darkness” through the eyes of those that have suffered before me, I begin to see a pathway forward, a way to find some peace in the moment and in the process. I have discovered my resilience and call upon it often, knowing that I am well supported no matter how awful I may feel.  Having had a number of experiences that could have knocked me to my knees, I find myself still standing and hopeful that today will be yet another beautiful day.

Women and Power: Inaugural Thoughts

Women and Power: Inaugural Thoughts

 

On the eve of the inauguration, I am moved to speak to my fellow sisters about the very important spiritual role women play in society.  For centuries, women have been the spiritual guideposts for their families, in fact many of the great mystics were women: Hildegard of Bingen, Joan of Arc, and Saint Teresa of Avila to name a few.  Given how disenfranchised these women were from their governments and family units, it is astounding the impact they had and the legacies left behind. The historical lessons gleaned from this seem to demonstrate the importance of the continued contribution of feminine voices no matter how small.

 

Raised in a very traditional home, I always found it a bit puzzling that the girls, while treasured, were never encouraged to be leaders. We were encouraged and expected to be gentle, kind, and soft spoken, loving and nurturing. At family gatherings we were sent to the kitchen to assist with food preparation, child care and table setting. Meanwhile, the men gathered in separate rooms for “business meetings”.  Sorely lacking was the recognition of feminine power and the importance of feminine voices in all venues.  Yes, I just said power. Men may shudder when they hear “feminine power” but this is misplaced fear. A woman in complete harmony with her femininity is a site to behold and one that men should revere and seek out.

 

One life is all we have and we live it as we believe in living it. But to sacrifice what you are and to live without belief, that is a fate more terrible than dying.

Joan of Arc

 

With all of these remarkable women who have come before us, why do we find ourselves in the unlikely position of having elected a leader that by all accounts is a misogynist? Even more troubling, many people that I respect supported this choice, once again foregoing women’s rights under the guise of more pressing issues. What could be more pressing than the mutual respect and autonomy of half the human race?  I feel compelled to state firmly that it is never okay for a person in a position of authority to think less of another simply because they are a different gender! It is saddening and incredibly disappointing that more men did not stand up and simply say “No”, watching the narrative unfold as if following a reality television show. Sadly, this is real life with real implications.

 

Accustom yourself continually to make many acts of love, for they enkindle and melt the soul.

Saint Teresa of Avila

 

While doing some recent family research, I discovered a story about my grandfather’s sister. Anna came from a family of farmers with 15 children all together.  She had difficulty delivering her eighth child and came down with a horrible fever from infection.  Soon she was delirious, shouting and swearing and not able to care for her young children. She was quickly admitted to the mental hospital in Minnesota with the diagnosis of puerperal insanity and died there a number of years later, never recovering her health enough to be released. Puerperal insanity was considered a form of postpartum psychosis at that time. It was an inexcusable way to diagnose what the male doctors thought to be a female hormonal unbalance, when in fact Anna had sepsis from infection. This story is yet another troubling example of women being seen as hysterical in regards to their mental health. In fact, the word hysterectomy comes from the Greek root word hystera. I cannot help but find correlations between this story and the way in which our new leadership has spoken about women. After all of this time, the prejudice still remains.  

 

There is the Music of Heaven in all things and we have forgotten how to hear it until we sing.

Hildegard of Bingen

 

The divine feminine in each of us ushers in new life and exhibits great visionary ability. It is a power to be sure and one that should be passed down woman to woman, mother to daughter. As our ancestors did, teach your daughters their value beyond procreation. Teach them the beauty and strength of emotional intelligence and the force this brings to leadership. Teach them their worth, that no man should treat them as less than and teach them the incredible power of love as an actionable character trait.

 

Men may shy away from strong women, but that is not our concern. A strong man will know how to live, work and love in partnership with a strong woman, never belittling her and always supporting her as she does him. Women living in this way will have strong opinions and not be afraid to share them, while still embracing all the wonderful qualities that represent femininity.  A true balance of power and a beautiful display of male and female energy as it is meant to interplay. Our new leadership should take heed and know that the voices of women will continue to sing for as long as it takes to be heard.