Shining Spirit

The poet Mary Oliver once outlined Instructions For Living A Life. The instructions were simple, few in number and profound. Here they are. Are you sitting down?

1. Pay Attention
2. Be Astonished
3. Tell About it

These basic life guidelines are exactly the ones Jesus talked about long ago. Live in this moment, not the past or the future. Be aware of what and who are around you and be attentive to what’s happening. Pay attention, particularly to the needs of others. Then, with wide-eyed wonder, be astonished. Head over heels! Look at the color of that leaf! Astonishing! The skill of that craftsman…astonishing! The sound of that music…astonishing! Be astonished because everything around you, when examined closely and gratefully, is amazing. Then, tell somebody about your observation or your experience. Share your astonishment; tell good news; broadcast your joy. Joy shared is joy doubled.

Today is a very good day to test Mary Oliver’s three life guidelines. If you try this today, it’s very likely that you will do it again day after tomorrow. Who knows? This might become a habit!

Let’s hope so. You are blessed in order to be a blessing.

I bought a little book yesterday and it is astonishing. At least, I think it is. Here’s the title: The Little Book Of Love Letters To The World: 150 Messages to Brighten and Enlighten. Now, that’s a title. One of the love letters says this: “It is impossible! said Pride. It is risky, said Experience. It is pointless, said Reason. Give it a try, whispered the Heart.”

So, the next time you run into that person who annoys you, the one you’d like to avoid, do the impossible. Speak kindly, even if your kindness is not received. Don’t let Pride write your life script.

Or, when you think to yourself: I can’t do that! It’s too risky. Think carefully before you turn away. Tell me something that is not risky about this life. It was risky just getting out of bed this morning. Trying something new requires a little bit of courage, or maybe a lot of courage. Don’t let past Experience direct your life.

Or, in that moment when you shrug your shoulders and think “It doesn’t matter, what’s the point?” add this to your thought: Everything matters.. Everything. Reason has its place in life, but Reason does not rule life. If I care, everything matters. If I have faith, everything matters. If I believe that love is stronger than hate or evil, everything matters.

Nothing is impossible. Everything is risky. My life and yours has a point. Listen to your heart. “Give it a try.”. And, may I add: You are not alone in this journey. You possess a power greater than the impossible. Listen to Your Heart.

The forest begins to slow down as shadows lengthen.
An elegant Steller’s Jay sits atop the wooden slat fence
watching the sun’s triumphant departure. I whisper
a prayer of gratitude and in the midst of the sacred
moment, the Jay raises a song that surely speaks of
glory and praise. Wave after wave of melody echo
through the pine trees. And with the last note fading
into the dusk, a welcome hush melts over all the
majestic red stones that line the Mogollon Rim.

A beautiful silver squirrel darts by, slides to a
stop in thick pine needles in an effort to pick up
one more morsel of food from the plentiful earth.
His full-cheeked face looks my way once, quickly,
before he dashes off into the darkening shadows.
All the forest’s inhabitants, great and small,
prepare for the coming night. This creative
orchestration occurs day after day, in spite of
wars and floods and famines. The symphony of
wind and storm, sun and snow, the song of the
mountain’s birds define life, not we who think
ourselves wise.

Even as I write this word, the arrow-straight
golden pines bow ever so slightly to the last
shafts of light. They bid goodbyes, and they will
be waiting in the morning to rise playfully on
their tiptoes to reach the first passing clouds.
Until then, darkness spreads his big, black
cloak over the forest, gently, tenderly. All is
well. All is as it should be.

When Sue and I drove up to the rental cabin in the White Mountains, I did a double-take. This little bench, announcing the name of the cabin to the world, sits just by the front door as a welcome party of one for the next guests…that’s us. I feel great pressure now living in a house on Mark Twain Drive in a lodging called “The Writing Cabin.” I must produce something more substantial than rhyming couplets. And this was supposed to be a restful holiday!

Otherwise, the weather is comfortable, the scenery is fabulous, the altitude is breath-taking, literally, but that’s not the location’s fault. All in all, this is a great get-away and we are thankful for the opportunity to see the remarkable examples of God’s creative imagination.

O Lord, how lovely is your dwelling place…

That’s it. Yes, Mr. Twain, I’m coming.

I don’t want heaven to be gates of pearl, streets lined with gold and angels’ wings flapping around everywhere. I would be very happy in this heavenly place, a spot not far from
Pinetop, Arizona. Sit back and take it all in. Shapes and textures; color combinations and contrasts; lush yet simple; a balance of plenty and scarcity. I first thought the rising land feature in the background was a nice launching pad for folks on the next flight to heaven. But, I have reconsidered. I now believe it is a landing strip for incoming heavenly beings who just want a vacation in a lovely spot. Much of the drive from Tucson into the White Mountains where Pinetop is located is through beautiful landscape like this. Of course, you don’t see it if you are focused on getting from A to B. So many of us miss the joy of the journey because we are destination focused instead of seeing amazing beauty along the way. So today, slow down, look around and up, hum a tune or sing a song, do something outrageous, laugh until your sides hurt, dance even if you don’t know how. Find your little piece of heaven. It’s probably right under your nose. Psalm 84 begins with the words: How lovely is your dwelling place. And it’s right here on US Highway 77. Who would have thought!

Trust and obey, for there’s no other way,
not for a month or a week or a day,
it’s a life-long commitment to bear his name:
part-time players are out of the game.

Onward Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
I think this turn of phrase has gone a bit too far.
There is no glamor, no personal fame
because war and hell are exactly the same.

Standing on the promises of Christ my king,
taking him at his word to bring
peace on earth, goodwill to men,
a chance to start all over again.

O God, our help in ages past,
how long, good Lord, will evil last,
the kind that tears apart our land,
condemns each woman, child and man
to suffer the pain of power and greed,
that refuses to speak to human need.
O God, our hope for years to come,
must we live on evil’s crumbs.

Blessed assurance, Jesus is mine.
So why do you whimper, complain and whine?
If Jesus really belongs to you,
should not that determine what you say or do?

Just some thoughts for your meditation today.
Receive the blessing, then become the blessing.

Musthftuyadnsdayurwedoynoadsensudyaesryadduraysaiadrya. Do you agree?

Once in a while I will have a day that defies logic, reason, and common sense. The state of the day is Confusion with a capital C. Less common than the bad day is the bad week, like the one above. That long string of confusion is the names of all the days of the week with their letters rearranged. And that’s the way some days and weeks feel. This level of confusion creates fear, anger, frustration. Just the things that want to take over and take you over the hill. So the question is: when this level of confusion and frustration appears, what can I do? Answers to the question come from all directions, lots of self-help books on lots of shelves. But I offer this answer from the perspective of Christ’s Way. One word: Jesus.

Just saying that name opens a door beyond which is the peace that passes all understanding. The old hymn says: Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there’s just something about that name. So, the next time you feel like your day or your week looks and feels like that first line above, share the load, renew both yourself and the moment, recognize that right by your side is a spiritual power capable of bringing order out of chaos and peace out of confusion. He waits to be invited. It’s true: there’s just something about that name.

“This is the day the Lord has made;
We will rejoice and be glad in it.”
(Psalm 118)

This is the particular moment the
Lord has made for you; use it
wisely for the good of all.

This is the time to speak for justice
and mercy…raise your voice; be heard.

This is a time in history for which you
were born; find a need and fill it.

That was your moment, the one
that just passed. You missed it.
But here comes another one.
You have something special to
offer, gifts to share; give
yourself away in gratitude because:

This is the day the Lord has made:
we will rejoice and be glad in it.
(And, we will make a difference
in the name of The One who
sent us.)

Amen!

Have you ever seen light? Not the reflection of light, but light itself? Pure light? Well, the answer is “yes” but only when that light allows you to see. Only when the constant, ever present light is reflected off something. You and I, according to Mark Nepo in his wonderful book “The Book of Awakening,” are constantly surrounded by light, but it is invisible until it touches or strikes something. The beauty of the flower is seen when light strikes it just the right way. And so it is with God. We are surrounded by and immersed in God but God becomes “seeable” when Presence and Love/Compassion come together. In that act of generosity, of sharing, or caring for someone who has great need…in 1,000 ways, when love is given, the Light comes on and there is God.

Look today at all the faces that pass by, the ones you see everyday. Today, though, offer help, be generous, give a compliment, praise a job well done…and watch the light come on. You’ve just opened a doorway and God is present.

May it be so for you today. Amen.

He said, “Sit down,” like a teacher
to his students. The ground was rocky
and uncomfortable and my full weight
on a sharp stone caused me to grunt
or make some guttural sound. He
turned his face to me, inquisitive at
first but quickly inviting. Then he
spoke. In some way I cannot explain,
his voice warmed the earth, replaced
all the jagged stones with soft blankets.
He captured time. His words filled the
evening air with magic and mystery,
my soul with beautiful confusion.

Words. Just words. But to this day
I can hear that voice like a song that
won’t go away. I hear him as I work
in the field or sit at my table at home.
He haunts my heart like no other
teacher I’ve known…and with such
simple stories. “Once there was a
man who had two sons…”

No wonder people call him
Rabbi. Such stories! Such
a man!