Rhythm

Tags

chanting, conscious work, dancing, knowing, openness, present moment, rhythym, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, universal peace, wisdom, Wisdom School, wisdom work, worhip

As I try to stay in the present moment this morning, I am aware that today is the last full day of our leadership training event. I can feel myself almost physically leaning forward as at the starting line of a race, even while attempting to be present to my typing. One of the words that we have heard often in the last three days as we process the sessions of our time together is rhythm. The word itself is a rare combination of consonants with only the  y to act as vowel. I hear the singsong “a,e,i,o,u and sometimes y” English lesson of my youth and still wonder why that function is only “sometimes.”

I am glad for the “y” in this word as it made me curious enough to look up the word “vowel” on the internet. In a flurry of words, I learned (or learned again) that a vowel is a sound produced with an open vowel tract where some of the air must escape through the mouth. It is frictionless and continuant. Unlike with consonants, there is no build-up of air pressure along the vocal tract. Also noted is that the vowel forms the peak of a syllable. The word rhythm obviously needs that letter y!

That seems to me a perfect description of the way we have been proceeding through these days. There is a felt sense of openness among the participants and no pressure for anyone to act in any way that is other than authentic, whether we are speaking, chanting or moving around the room in a dance of universal peace. We have been blessed with good weather, the only rain a swift downpour in the middle of Thursday night, that has allowed us to exercise our powers of conscious working together – in rhythm with one another – outside stacking wood or inside chopping vegetables. We have recognized the wisdom in the group in such an organic way that our purpose has already been fulfilled, it seems. The challenge will be to stay in the moment for this last day and a half so as not to miss those moments of pure knowing which are sure to come in our interaction and especially in our worship together. I trust, when we are taking leave of each other tomorrow noon, our sense and perhaps our parting words will be the familiar: “It is finished in beauty.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Come Away”

Tags

come away, courage, dancing, deep reflection, evil, fear, fearless, Hebrew Scriptures, Psalm 23, spiritual practices, stillness, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, Wisdom School

“Even though I walk in the dark valley, I fear no evil, for you are at my side. With your rod and your staff you give me courage.”

These words from Psalm 23, probably the best known of all the psalms in the Hebrew Scriptures, jumped out at me this morning. Then I read that Jesus called his apostles to come away from the crush of the crowds “to a deserted place” for some rest – most likely, for a chance to gain some clarity and reassess what was happening so as to refuel for the re-entry into the ministry that was theirs.

Having arrived in Stonington, Maine yesterday to the shared joy of being with a dozen colleagues whose presence I have enjoyed variously at different “wisdom schools” over the past ten years, I am aware of a similar call to “come away” for fearless and deep reflection on our call to meet the challenges in our country today. Our work will be rigorous and internal, but work it will surely be. Perhaps the outcome will be so subtle as to go undetected by “the crowds” but we will surely be more committed to our spiritual practices and more certain that there is a way forward, although its evolution may still be in seed, thereby impossible to comprehend.

This message itself may be similarly “impossible to comprehend” but I am reminded of a quote on a card that has been in my small treasure box for decades. It says: In the stillness is the dancing, and this morning, that is enough for me to know.

Invitation

Tags

celebrating, dance, dancing, festive service, God, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

On this gray day, when freezing rain is predicted, I look toward my window and see underneath a framed image of a woman, head thrown back and arms out-stretched, obviously dancing to her favorite, all-engaging music. The accompanying quote says: Be not lax in celebrating! Be not lazy in the festive service of God! My only response can be: Okay, God – then come, dance with me!

 

 

 

 

 

Joy in the Morning

Tags

dancing, joy, Lectionary, lunch with the psalms, mourning, praise, psalm, Psalm 30, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

One of my favorite moments of the week is really a half hour. It happens every Tuesday noon at our weekly “Lunch with the Psalms” offering at the Sophia Center. As it has evolved, nobody brings a lunch. Rather we just “chew on” the psalm of the day from the lectionary for the Eucharist. We look at different translations, reading reflectively and comparing word choices, then considering the meaning and applications – sometimes for our world and sometimes for our personal lives. Sometimes we just bask in the language itself.

Yesterday there were only two of us present for this weekly feast but, as we often remember that “where two or three are gathered,” Christ says, “there I am in the midst of them,” it was delightful. Our consideration was Psalm 30 and in one of the alternate translations we chuckled at the part that sounded like a teenager addressing God but were caught in a different way with the vivid lines that expressed a more mature relationship. I decided it would be worth sharing the entire text here today, followed by the most evocative lines of commentary, in hopes that you might share our experience of God’s faithful servant,  the psalmist, in the vicissitudes of life and know again the constancy of God’s care.

It is you I praise, my God. You took me by the hand to lift me high up off the ground. You did not let my adversaries trample over me. O God, when I called out to you, you heard my cry for help and nursed me back to health again. I was dying and you revived me. It is you who saved my life when I was spiraling down. Let everyone who serves you praise the sacred name we know and now confess. If indeed you are ever angry, God, it flashes out for one brief moment and then is gone, but your kindness never fades even for an instant. It is life itself. Tears may wash me through the night, but when the morning breaks your joy awaits.

Once in great prosperity, with grace abounding, foolishly I said, “I will never be disturbed. I am as strong and sure as any mountain.” But suddenly, it was as if you were not there. It was as though your face had turned away. I found myself in deep despair. I called, I cried, I begged for pity, Lord. I argued with you. “God,” I said, “What good would it do you if I vanished into death? And would the dust that’s left when I am gone keep promise or speak your praise? Lord, listen, hear and help me now,” I pled and prayed.

Then suddenly, you turned my mourning into dancing, you stripped the rags of grief away and wrapped me round with your astounding joy. Now from my heart there pours unceasing song, a voice with music and with praise, that will sing on to you forever. (Psalm 30)

Question: The contrast between depression and despair and joy are great in this psalm. What is the experience of joy? Is it simply that the problems of life are resolved in your favor, or is there something more and deeper than this?