In this high place

it is as simple as this,

Leave everything you know behind.

Step toward the cold surface,

say the old prayer of rough love

and open both arms.

Those who come with empty hands

will stare into the lake astonished,

there, in the cold light

reflecting pure snow,

the true shape of your own face.

At some point in our lives, we are called to a particular path in which we are asked to acknowledge who we are and what we must do.

Sometimes the call comes loudly moving us hard and fast to a particular path. While other times, it is slower and softer with some gentle nudges moving us toward a particular path. 

A few years ago, I developed a six-week workshop called Tools for Intentional Living and Transformation (TILT)©.  During the first week of TILT, each participant creates a spiritual biography as they begin to cultivate the articulation of their spiritual story. During the next five weeks, each participant reflects on their unique story as they move toward the last session to develop a spiritual will.

Questions often emerge such as: What is the basic plot of my story? How do I articulate my story? This is not about the meaning of life or a philosophy; it is about each person’s unique story.  Many times, people point to a particular person or incident that changed their life or caused a significant shift in their ability to see something differently.

During this six-week period, participants are often amazed as they reflect on their unique spiritual story identifying a sense of call throughout their lifetime. Some answered the call while others heard a call yet it was delayed, postponed or avoided.

As participants move through weeks of reflection and turn toward developing a spiritual will, they reflect on: What is my spiritual legacy? What wisdom, values, and learnings do I wish to pass on to my family, loved ones, and significant others? Once again, participants are astonished to reflect on their spiritual journey and their call.

It can be difficult for us to hear a call to a particular path, especially if it is soft with gentle nudges. It may be easier to hear if it is loud and fast. Whether we hear a loud or gentle call, we are being called to a particular path to acknowledge who we are and what we must do. 

During this season of Lent, let us open our hearts and our minds to listen to our call to a particular path.

Why wait until Easter? Practice Resurrection Now.

1. Refuse to identify with negative, blaming, antagonistic or fearful thoughts (you cannot stop “having” them).
2. Apologize when you hurt another person or situation.
3. Undo your mistakes by some positive action toward the offended person or situation.
4. Do not indulge or believe your False Self – that which is concocted by your mind and society’s expectations.
5. Choose your True Self – your radical union with God – as often as possible throughout the day.
6. Always seek to change yourself before trying to change others.
7. Choose as much as possible to serve rather than be served.
8. Whenever possible, seek the common good over your mere private good.
9. Give preference to those in pain, excluded or disabled in any way.
10. Seek just systems and policies over mere charity.
11. Make sure your medium is the same as your message.
12. Never doubt that it is all about love in the end.

Taken from: Immortal Diamond: The Search for our True Self by Richard Rohr.

God comes to you disguised as your life – Paula D’Arcy

The Dalai Lama tells us: Learn and obey the rules very well, so you will know how to break them properly.

Wrestling with God During Lent

In his books, The Holy Longing: The Search for a Christian Spirituality and Prayer: Our Deepest Longing, Ronald Rolheiser uses the same story to help us see that wrestling with God is part of our journey. The story goes something like this:

Nikos Kazantzakis, the author of Zorba the Greek was a deeply religious man. He was an artist, a seeker and ferociously independent. He was often referred to as mystical. Kazantzakis had deep interior struggles in his relationship with God. At times, he found himself obedient and other times he found himself resistant.

In his memoir, Report to Greco, Kazantzakis reveals a personal story about a summer spent in a monastery as a young man.  During this time, he had a series of conversations with an old monk. In one of these conversations, he asked the monk if he still wrestled with the devil. The monk told him that he no longer struggled with the devil – he had grown old and the devil had grown old – and the devil no longer had any strength. The monk revealed that he now struggled with God. Kazantzakis responded by saying: You struggle with God and hope to win? The monk said no: I struggle with God and hope to lose.

Wrestling with God can move us into a deeper and more profound kind of prayer. In the end, our real struggle is with God. In the book of Genesis, we see that Jacob wrestles for an entire night with a Spirit. In the morning, we see that the Spirit turns out to be God. Rolhesier tells us: “What a perfect icon for prayer? A human being and God, wrestling in the dust of this earth.”

As we journey through Lent, there will be many different struggles; some of these struggles may even be with God.

Interesting piece in NYTimes:

http://www.nytimes.com/2014/03/13/business/retirementspecial/the-science-of-older-and-wiser.html?partner=rss&emc=rss

There is a story told, a legend perhaps, about St. Theresa of Avila. One day the devil appeared to her, disguised as Christ. Theresa wasn’t fooled for even a second. She immediately dismissed him. Before leaving, however, the devil asked her: “How did you know? How could you be so sure I wasn’t Christ?” Her answer: “You didn’t have any wounds! Christ has wounds.”

Three Things to Remember by Mary Oliver

As long as you’re dancing, you can

    break the rules.

Sometimes breaking the rules is just

    extending the rules.

Sometimes there are no rules.

Meditation: Opening to the Light

1. Close your eyes and follow your breath.
2. When you feel centered, imagine yourself in a safe place.
3. In the center of your safe space is a box with many drawers.
4. The drawers are labeled. The inscriptions show hurts your have yet to forgive.
5. Choose a drawer and open it. Rolled or folded or crumpled up inside it are all the thoughts and feelings the incident evokes.
6. You can choose to empty out this drawer.
7. Bring your hurt into the light and examine it.
8. Unfold the resentment you have felt and set it aside.
9. Smooth out the ache and let if drift up into the sunlight and disappear.
10. If any feeling seems too big or too unbearable, set it aside to look at later.
11. When the drawer is empty, sit for a moment with it on your lap.
12. Then remove the label from this drawer.
13. As the label comes off, you will see the drawer turn to sand. The wind will sweep it away. You don’t need it anymore.
14. There will be no space left for that hurt in the box. That space is not needed anymore.
15. If there are more drawers still to be emptied, you can repeat this meditation now or later.