Journal of Sacred Work

Days 179-180 Widening Circles

"I live my life in widening circles that reach out across the world. I may not complete this last one but I give myself to it. "
--- Rainer Maria Rilke

Note: This reflection is my response to an audio podcast by Tara Brach called, “Bodhisattya Path-Widening Circles of Compassion”, which can be listened to @ tarabrach.com

When fatigued, it is easy to feel cut off from the well spring of one’s heart center. It can be hard to write in a way that will be helpful, meaningful or inspiring to others. Yet, comforting to me are these words by Tara Brach,

"Even when our hearts are shut down we still care about caring. Even when we are cut off,  there is something about it that matters, and even if it is in an abstract way. In our deepest nature we want to help in that way."

"The places where we are seen and heard are holy places. When we offer some space for another  to know their belonging they can come home to who they are."

 

 I know of a deeper truth that underlies and holds together the universe of our lives. The Journal of Sacred Work has been one such place for me, a Holy space where we can pause and speak each other’s name aloud. In recognition, we affirm the Divine goodness that we have come to see and know in one another.

Yet, how quickly we can contract into a smaller sense of ourselves and forget our connectedness. Brach describes a deep conditioning that tells us we are separate and a primal fear that we are somehow cut off from each other. It is so much easier to operate out of our dividedness than to be vulnerable. When we quiet the minds endless prattle we can touch upon life’s fluid nature with compassion.  (Brach, 2013).

Brach suggests that we hold the sincere intention that whatever arises in this life, "may it serve to awaken this heart and mind. We awaken to our failures, disease, loss, fear, or our difficulties with loved ones." When we are dedicated to being present there is a sense of loss and beneath that is love's essence as we allow ourselves to be touched by life’s poignancy (Brach, 2013).

Where ever you may be, may your experience serve to awaken your heart, mind and spirit.

Contributed by ~liz Sorensen Wessel

Mandala by ~liz

Days 174-178 - Words of Marriage

   My son (here with his wife-to-be) selected a reading for his wedding that is so lovely I wanted to share it with you. Robert Frost's language of love, honed to describe the deepest relationship between two souls, can also inform all of our other relationships.

   We need the companionship of others. We need to cultivate the mystery of our encounters with the world - of moon and sea, of stars through the trees,  of the wind brushing our hair. Beyond that, we seek the sacred companionship of one with whom we can live "together wing to wing and oar to oar":

 THE MASTER SPEED

 

No speed of wind or water rushing by 

But you have speed far greater. You can climb 

Back up a stream of radiance to the sky, 

And back through history up the stream of time. 

And you were given this swiftness, not for haste, 

Nor chiefly that you may go where you will, 

But in the rush of everything to waste,

That you may have the power of standing still — 

Off any still or moving thing you say. 

Two such as you with master speed 

Cannot be parted nor be swept away 

From one another once you are agreed 

That life is only life forevermore

Together wing to wing and oar to oar.

 

~ Robert Frost (1874-1963), American poet

 

Days 172-173 Acceptance

Love sorrow. She is yours now, and you must
take care of what has been
given. Brush her hair, help her
into her little coat, hold her hand,
especially when crossing a street. For, think,

what if you should lose her? Then you would be
sorrow yourself; her drawn face, her sleeplessness
would be yours. Take care, touch
her forehead that she feel herself not so

utterly alone. And smile, that she does not
altogether forget the world before the lesson.
Have patience in abundance. And do not
ever lie or ever leave her even for a moment

by herself, which is to say, possibly, again,
abandoned. She is strange, mute, difficult,
sometimes unmanageable but, remember, she is a child.
And amazing things can happen. And you may see,

as the two of you go
walking together in the morning light, how
little by little she relaxes; she looks about her;
she begins to grow."

-- Mary Oliver, Red Bird

The above poem was shared with me and another friend with the accompanying message, "This is helping me as I struggle with some old demons".  Our friend offered her insight, "Very poignant poem, could be said for other emotions and feelings as well".  Yes, she replied, "What a wonderful metaphor of self-acceptance".

In his recent Journal entry Erie Chapman encouraged our community to look at childhood images to reawaken our "truest self" and he cautioned us not to "crush the truth, freshness and awe with which your child eyes saw the world" (Days 160-164 Finding Yourself, June 10, 2013).

This past week, my son Lee and I visited my  mom, who in her 97th year has lived nearly a century. During our time together we reminisced amid a gallery of photos and strolled through a legacy of family memories.

My parents knew a secret. My father was never happier nor more whole than when in the company of family and friends. Although an only child himself, he fathered six children and together my parents created many enduring and fond remembrances. They lived simple pleasures in gatherings around table with food, stories, music and the good times of being together.  Often, friends and relatives would join our family vacations at the seaside or in nature to soak up sunshine, fresh air and idle conversation.

I miss that era of relaxation, which was an art of its own. In this increasingly virtual age of technology one can sometimes feel so alone and anonymous while living in a city of thousands.

Today, as I leave my mom to return home I look into her eyes once last time and we give each other a hug and we kiss. "Parting is such sweet sorrow".  In this moment, I am keenly aware of how our lives are continually passing and  how precious our love is for one another. 

 I see a child’s love reflected in her eyes... and I am sustained by gratitude.

Let us never deny or leave unspoken our love for each other but rather treasure, nurture and celebrate the gift that we share.

~liz Sorensen Wessel

Photo by my father, Phil Sorensen

Days 167-171 - "Round" Energy

   One of the things people have always loved about my mother (left) is that they feel better when she walks in the room. This seems to be true whether they know her or not. She personifies Grace.

   What happens to your energy when another person enters your presence? Your answer will help describe not only your feelings about that person but the impact you and I make on each others lives merely by our presence.

   A friend of mine recently described a new acquaintance of hers as having "round" energy - not sharp or square, but round. I immediately pictured a soft and friendly presence - someone who makes you feel better the moment you experience them.

   This energy response is important whether you know the individual or not. The first time a nurse enters a room, the patient will have an immediate physical reaction. The reaction is easily plotted if the patient is being monitored.

   If the nurse projects "sharp" energy it will be reflected in heart rate and blood pressure readings. A professional presence that is round and reassuring has a healing influence on the patient not to mention any family and friends who are present.

   When does sharp energy work? Maybe in combat when the objective is killing. Perhaps, in an emergency when abrupt action is required.

   Energy whose edges are rounded is the kind that nurtures loving relationships. It is the kind where competence marries compassion. It is the kind we want to experience most especially when our bodies are ill and in need of a healing presence.

   Next time you enter a room consider your presence to others. What can you do to round your energy in ways that reflect Love's grace?

-Erie Chapman

 

Days 165-166 When Everything Else is Gone . . . Love Just Is

Note: Special thanks to guest contributor Cheri Cancelliere

    C. S. Lewis observed that if you ask 20 good people to name the highest virtue, 19 of them will say “unselfishness.” Yet, he felt quite certain that if the same question were asked of the great saints of ages past, they would have overwhelmingly responded “love.” He wondered how this happened in our time, the substitution of a negative term for a positive (C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory, 1949, HarperOne). Which do we count highest in our service to others?

   Unselfishness implies sacrifice and self-denial. We give up something that we think we own, our time, ourselves, our resources, for the benefit of someone else. Certainly, this is a noble aim, yet it falls far short of the virtue of love. Unselfishness involves effort, works, and in our case, the care of those in need. In reality, we can do all of these things quite effectively without the slightest hint of love, and we do not own anything at all! Our lives, our talent, our every moment is a gift from God – a gift of love.

    Unselfishness does, but love just is. Unselfishness is an act of our will, but love is an attitude of the heart, and the most wonderful gift we can give. An unselfish act will be fondly remembered, but love changes hearts and lives forever. Love brings hope and chases away fear. Love tells the lonely that they are no longer alone. Love encourages those who are suffering that someone really does care. Love costs us nothing, but brings eternal rewards when we give it away and give it away we must, for we cannot own love. It is a free gift.

   St. Paul tells us that we can do many things including dramatic acts of sacrifice, but without love we are nothing (1 Cor 13:3). Love is the greatest gift we can give those whom we care for, not simply our doing, but our being, in an attitude of the heart that we can choose anew – every moment of every day. When there is nothing more to do and we have given all we have and think we are completely empty, our most priceless gift waits to be given. It is always there, for love just is. “Let us love one another, because love is from God” (1 John 4:7).

 -Cheri Cancelliere

Days 160-164 Finding Yourself?

    "You can't find yourself in time," Eckhardt Tolle says. "You can only find yourself in the moment."

   But, if your goal is to "find" yourself, where did you go? Did your "self" somehow get lost in the forest of life? Where do you start looking for it?

   Watch images of yourself as a small child and ask if you know that person. Can you remember feeling your truest self when you were small and gradually sensing that self retreating further into the trees as your life-walk continued?

   I was a wildly enthusiastic child (photo - from a childhood birthday) - so ebullient that my father said to me one day when I was about eight, "Chip, I hope you never lose that enthusiasm." "Lose" my enthusiasm? How could I lose something like that, I wondered.

   He understood the risk. By definition, adulthood frowns on colleagues who behave "childishly." Sensing this, your child self probably went into hiding. Now, you sit around meeting tables wearing the solemn mask someone else made for you. 

   There's nothing wrong, of course, with maturity. The problem comes when you crush the truth, freshness and awe with which your child eyes saw the world.

   These are the sacred eyes that once saw with the earnest clarity that is life's finest gift. When you behold that light with the seasoned vision of your adulthood you see Love's energy. 

   True maturity keeps counsel with both the adult and child self. Ignore either one and you will feel the loss-of-self anxiety that plagues our shared journey on this earth. 

 -Erie Chapman

Days 158-159 The Conversation Project

“Everyone has got to die, but I always thought an exception would be made in my case." Author, William Saroyan, on his deathbed.

 The majority of us are not comfortable having conversations about the prospect of end of life. Why is talking about care in the final stage of life so difficult? Perhaps, on an unconscious level we think that if we ignore death, it will go away, or worse, if we do talk about it we might jinx ourselves and bring it on.

In 2011, people living in California were surveyed and the results were astonishing.

 Sixty percent say that making sure their families are not burdened by tough decisions about their care is "extremely important. However, 56% of Californians have not communicated their end-of-life wishes to the loved one they would want making decisions on their behalf.

 While a large majority of Californians (82%) say it is important to have end-of-life wishes in writing, only 23% say they have done so.

 Almost 80% say they definitely or probably would like to talk with a doctor about end-of-life care, but only 7% have had a doctor speak with them about it.  

Read more: http://www.chcf.org/publications/2012/02/final-chapter-death-dying#ixzz2VdVg3Zjf

 How can take the fear out of this and begin to have rich and meaningful conversations with those we care about and those we care for? How can we begin to normalize the experience of approaching difficult subjects? The California Conversation Project’s website has some helpful tools that easily walk you through the process. http://theconversationproject.org/starter-kit/intro/

 It is important to recognize that these conversations need to happen long before we are ill. Whether we are young or old we need to begin the conversation, make our wishes known and write them down. In healthcare we need to develop a comfort level in talking with people about their wishes so that we can honor them.

 I invite you to watch this video of the Jennings multigenerational family who gathered together to begin the conversation. This was the catalyst I needed to complete my own advance directive. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5nMcYFnvgo

 

I hope you will gift your family and begin the conversation with your loved ones.

 

~liz Sorensen Wessel

Days 156-157 - Journal's Seventh Anniversary.

   The Journal of Sacred Work was launched June 7, 2006. Since then, more than fourteen hundred essays have been posted. In seven years about 300,000 visitors have viewed the site. Thousands have posted comments.

   When I looked back to the first edition (click on Archives in right column) I noticed that the third comment ever posted was by our weekend writer Liz Wessel. Thank you to Liz and to each of you who have stayed with us as regular participants or who may have visited here just once. 

   The goal of the Journal has always been to support caregivers in their hard work and to provide a forum for sharing. Most of the Journal's essays have been about communication - with each other and with ourselves.

   Among your deepest needs to be heard. When a friend sent me a link to a ninety-second comedy short on male-female communication I decided to share it with you as part of our anniversary celebration. This little film may say more on this subject in a minute and a half than I have said in seven years. 

Click on the link below. (You can also go to www.jasonheadley.com and click on the video titled "It's Not About the Nail.")

http://www.bing.com/videos/search?q=it%27s+not+about+the+nail&view=detail&mid=318342F4FD59A77FF3D8318342F4FD59A77FF3D8&first=0&FORM=NVPFVR 

-Erie Chapman

Days 153-155 - "Intimacy that does not annihilate difference..."

   The movie camera is on the ground to find a different point of view (POV in filmmaking.) POV, of course, affects your perception.

   In her biography of scientist Barbara McClintock, Evelyn Fox Keller awakens a profound point of view on Love. She writes of McClintock that she "practiced the highest form of love, which is intimacy that does not annihilate difference."

   In your desire to become one with someone or something you love I wonder if you have ever sought to "annihilate difference." When you found that some impermeable wall remained were you confounded by a sense of deepend isolation?

   Keller suggests you think otherwise. True intimacy between you and another honors both deep sharing and an exquisite appreciation of the membrane that separates you from the other.  

   Only when you understand this experience as sacred can you honor what Parker Palmer calls the "otherness of things." To live this intimacy is the most precious experience you can have. When that holiness has entered your life your heart opens to the expression of Radical Loving Care in all of your relationships.

   What I mean by "all of your relationships" is reflected in the basis for McClintock's genius. The intimacy she lived in this example was not with her lover or her child or a friend.

   It was with a kernel of corn.

   To unlock the genetic secrets of the corn, she said that she somehow had to learn to "lean into the kernel." The kernel yielded its secrets to McClintock's love enabling her to become one of the greatest scientists of the twentieth century.

   If she could live such intimacy with a kernel of corn, can you live it with those you care for and care with across your life?

-Erie Chapman

 

Days 151-152 The Greatest Gift

Morning holds a special dignity of her own. Awakening in the quiet sanctity of her arms, listen as life begins to stir. In his book, “Eternal Echoes” John O’Donouhue encourages us to greet each day in the ancient tradition of a prayerful intention by taking a moment to welcome her arrival.

Increasingly, I find myself distracted, multi-tasking, half-heartedly present. When we do this, O’Donohue cautions we are holding back and avoiding the truth of a situation, diminishing the person before us, our friendships and the possibilities of our experiences. John reminds us that the most precious gift we can offer is the gift of ourselves.

John gifts us with this prayerful poem by Fernando Pessoa.

To Be Great Be Entire

To be great, be entire:

O what is yours nothing

Exaggerate or exclude

Be whole in each thing. Put all that you are

Into the least you do

Like that on each place the whole moon

Shines for she lives aloft.

                                                                              By-Fernando Pessoa

 

Contributed by ~liz Sorensen Wessel

Above  image by ~liz