Tags
animals, companion, intuition, lesson, relationship, teacher, The Sophia Center for Spirituality
For some time now, our cat (really Sister Paula’s cat—a great story for another day) has taken it upon herself to come and sit on my lap if she sees me sitting in my over-stuffed chair. Little by little, Precious has taken over every piece of furniture in the house and has wormed her was into all the hearts in the house as well. I am the last holdout, likely because we never had an animal in our house when I was growing up. I have come to love dogs over the years because of the extraordinary dogs I have known, especially the lovely Lady Ruth, the beautiful Irish Setter who thought she was a person, and any number of Labradors: golden, black or in between and a couple of tiny dogs of the chihuahua breed. Happy to have made the acquaintance of each of these “furry friends,” I have not only enjoyed them but have benefited by the relationships. My first serious lesson in that realm came from Ruth. One day, long ago, I was very sad—bereft even—for a reason I have long forgotten. I came home from work and, finding no one in the house, I walked down to our back field and sat in the grass, likely to pout. Some moments later, I realized that I had company, Lady Ruth was quietly sitting beside me. She didn’t say anything but sat quietly with me, offering her presence for my comfort. It was a powerful lesson about the intuition of some animals.
This morning I had a similar experience. I was attempting to write a blog post and having little success when Precious suddenly extricated herself from me and my chair and moved on to her next task. I realized I had been very alert as I petted her. She has not yet learned the difference in biting and nipping as an expression of love and I never want to trust that she has succeeded in learning the distinction. Thus I am careful to be alert even while feeling the comfort of the relationality of connection to another being.
It’s really difficult to explain the meaning of such an experience to non-animal people, but take my word for it. Animals are some of the greatest teachers around!
People often ask me these days if I am retired. I’m no longer shocked at the question, especially since I am now 70 years old (an amazing statistic that still surprises me sometimes!). I have been blessed thus far with good health and am grateful for meaningful and creative work that continues to present itself.
Psalm 119, the longest in the book of 150 psalms, has 176 verses and can be the study of a lifetime. In a commentary this morning I read that the subject of these prayers is the hard learning one gains in light of a multitude of hardships and circumstances encountered on the spiritual path…Experiences are often repeated again and again. As we go over the same territory learning it in new ways, truth becomes grounded. Insights are gained from each spiral of ascending experience.
I learned a long time ago the necessity of pruning: that even though it may seem cruel to cut off any part of a plant, cutting it back may cause the possibility of a stronger and healthier plant in the long run. It was the tomato section of our garden that taught me that hard lesson many years ago. I learned what “suckers” were that summer and the fact that the longer you left them, the more they drained the energy of the whole – without bearing fruit themselves.
There’s a great lesson in today’s first reading (2 KGS 5:1-15) about Naaman, the Syrian army commander who was “highly esteemed and respected” by his master, the king of Aram. At issue was the fact that Naaman was a leper and that his wife’s Israeli slave girl suggested that he could be cured by Elisha, the prophet in Samaria. The king of Aram was all for the idea and sent Naaman with all sorts of expensive gifts to the king of Israel with a letter containing the request that Naaman be cured.
I had the privilege once of meeting Oren Lyon, the Native American “Faithkeeper” of the Onondaga Nation who lives just south of the city of Syracuse, New York about 80 miles from my home. I was pleasantly surprised that Alan Cohen wrote today about the role of “Faithkeeper” as it is embodied by Oren Lyon and others like him. This person in the tribe consistently holds the higher vision, having been designated to be the voice of hope, an inspiration to remember the bigger picture when others forget it. Cohen remarks that “each of us needs to be a Faithkeeper. When others around us go into fear or confusion, we serve best by remembering the light and holding peace.” When in the presence of Oren Lyon, it was easy to sense what this means and why he holds such a designation for his people.
I was reminded again this week of how easy it is for me to walk through my days on automatic pilot and how quickly I fall out of consciousness while doing a task. Let me explain. On Tuesday my cursor disappeared from my computer screen. (I have a touchpad which I have been using for over three years.) No matter what we (I and my tech companion in the office who saves me all the time) tried, nothing would bring back that little arrow that makes things happen and allows me even the smallest success in communication. When I finally had time to visit the “Geek Squad” it took two experts to figure out that a mouse – a computer mouse, that is – might get me back up and running. Voila! It worked. Having breathed a large sigh of relief, I went back to my office and happily started to type again. Each time I needed to move the cursor for an edit or another function, I found my index finger circling around on the touchpad until I woke up to the fact that I needed the mouse to accomplish the move. My mind was on the text I was typing and the two tasks of hitting the keys and using the cursor were secondary and tertiary, just like so many other activities that I do automatically.
Today it’s Isaiah whose message rings loudly in my ears with the same focus: go deeper! Get to the heart of things. He’s talking about fasting and the dissatisfaction of the people with God’s response – or lack thereof – to their practice. They want their reward. But God is more concerned with the lack of depth in their spiritual lives because, even while they fast, they mistreat their laborers and fight among themselves. They just don’t get it. So once again they – and we – get a lesson on what it means to “fast from the heart.” It’s a truly moving and inspired passage. (Is 58:1-9a) Read it aloud, if you will, with gusto!
