Weather Report

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A Deep Breath of Life, Alan Cohen, judge, keep smiling, let go, Psalm 147, snow, spark of the divine, spring, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, weather report, winter

I smiled as I read the Psalm for today – one of the praise psalms toward the end of the book, Psalm 147, wherein we find a weather report of sorts. In verse 16, the psalmist sings of God’s activity thus: He spreads snow like wool; frost he strews like ashes. Yesterday I was thinking we were surely headed for spring but this morning there’s lots of activity out there, wind and blowing snow – as if last week’s dump of almost 3 feet of the white stuff were not enough!

My thought that I am powerless to do anything but accept the vagaries of the weather was a good segue as I read a quote about relating to other people. Alan Cohen, in his daily reflection (A Deep Breath of Life) says the following: Help me not to judge my brothers and sisters, but let me recognize  my unity with them. Help me to see the spark of the divine in all the eyes I look into. I smile again as I think of English class when I was a child and find myself cringing at the “dangling preposition” that makes me want to correct the previous sentence to say, in all the eyes into which I look. But how clumsy does that sound! The bottom line in all this seems to be something like the following:

Just keep smiling and let go of your need for everything to work according to your rules. Living will likely be easier that way!

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It’s Like This…

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distractions, good life, pick up the shovel, shoveling, snow, spiritual life, temptations, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

We have 30 inches of snow on the ground this morning, more than any time since 1961. I am itching to get out and shovel some of it. I made it about 20 feet yesterday afternoon from our door to the edge of the driveway, but that effort was tiny compared to what lies ahead on the driveway itself – and the back deck and  the roof…Happily we have a faithful “St. Joseph” who will arrive soon to begin digging us out.

This may sound contrived but I actually had thoughts this morning that compared our situation to the spiritual life. There are sometimes “mountains” of distractions and temptations to laziness or worse in the everyday. Trying to figure out how to plow through them all sometimes seems too difficult and the effort too exhausting. Just picking up the shovel is a major achievement. Once the first step is taken, however, the next seems less monumental. That happened for me yesterday as I stood on the front stoop and lifted the first shovelful of snow. It was very light and fluffy! “Great,” I thought. “I’ll make quick work of this!” I was dismayed as I progressed because there was so much to clear away at every step and bend-and-lift got more tiring as I worked. Miraculously, I succeeded in opening a somewhat narrow path to the driveway and felt rather pleased with myself. Looking out this morning I see that there is still evidence of my work although it will take a second round to make it passable again. No matter. The effort was its own reward.

There are so many comparisons one might make in attempting to live a good life. Mine may not speak to anyone else but whatever gets us to “pick up the shovel” is worth consideration if it moves us just one more step toward God.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Snow

Tags

light, schedule, silence, slowing down, snow, spiritual direction, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I had a schedule change for today. I was supposed to have two spiritual direction appointments but circumstances (not mine) changed and gave me a day at home. I spent my first hour (uncharacteristically) in the kitchen chatting since, wanting to tell the Sisters about the change in schedule, I sat down and ended up having coffee and leisurely conversation with Liz. As I came back to my room and looked out my window I noticed that it was snowing very gently. I had a thought that I’m sure many people would think ridiculous. It came quickly and with a smile. I heard myself say in my mind, “I’m so lucky to live in the Northeast where it snows!” While it is true that the snow today is not likely to cause accidents on the road or loss of electricity in homes so the concept does admit of exceptions, there is certainly an upside to snow events. Young people and teachers know the enthusiasm of snow days from school! My reflection includes that feeling, but is somewhat deeper. Watching the soft, slow falling to earth of it makes the snow a model of slowing down and the fact that it doesn’t make a sound as it falls is the major benefit. If I take the opportunity to go outside later today, I know I will be enveloped in silence and light. Who could ask for more than that?

Seeking the Light

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darkness, dawn, life, light, Macrina Wiederkehr, morning light, night, seven sacred pauses, snow, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, winter

6:26am. No inkling of any light in the sky. The sound of one car braving the cold (17 F degrees). I know it must be snowing as all the reports last night telling of 45 states where snow will be a hazard today are likely true of us, but I cannot yet tell. Too tired to think much I turn to Macrina Wiederkehr for help, for a word…She says:

Out of darkness we come passing through dawn into day. Holding hands with dawn we clothe ourselves with light. We clothe ourselves with day. Out of the night we come, bathed and cradled in light, reaching through the dawn, we cover ourselves with day. Our beautiful bowl of life, so full of eternal questions, is filled to the brim with new light. Morning light, be kind, help us find peace of mind this day. (Seven Sacred Pauses, p.64)

May it be so.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Do You Hear What I Hear?

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hearing, inner ear, John the Baptist, listen, listening, Matthew, silence, snow, snowstorm, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

I woke naturally this morning rather than to the sound of my alarm – or any sound. As is often true here, there was silence throughout the house. Yesterday afternoon at one point I paused from the work I was doing, having become conscious that the silence around me was so profound it could have been characterized as “deafening.” That is not unusual if each of the three inhabitants of this house is engaged in quiet activity but I am always grateful for the recognition of the gift as there is so much noise in most quarters these days. I think the snow muffles sound too – and yes, it is still snowing although it seems the end is in sight by the end of the day.

This enforced hiatus because of the snowstorm has been helpful in many ways, not the least of which has been the ability to focus on study and preparation for presentations happening over the next several days. The gospel this morning (MT 11: 11-15) speaks of John the Baptist, the one who spent his time preparing for and then calling people to recognition of Jesus as Messiah. The passage ended with the often-repeated line throughout Scripture: “Whoever has ears ought to hear!” How did John the Baptist know that Jesus was ready to begin his ministry so that his own ministry would take on a new importance? In addition to listening to the buzz around Galilee about Jesus, John must’ve done a lot of listening with his “inner ear” to be ready.

Yesterday I spoke about music and am again reminded of what a gift it is to be able to hear. Today I will need to focus more on my inner hearing – the prompting of the Spirit – which will help me to tie up loose ends and make final decisions about the retreat that begins tomorrow evening. I just read yesterday a line that said, “You can’t hear if you don’t listen.” And that, it seems, whether inside or out, is the key to it all.

While We Wait

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calm, consciousness, ice, pregnancy, snow, snowstorm, The Sophia Center for Spirituality, waiting, weather

I woke up this morning expecting to see snow outside – or at least a covering of ice from the sleet that was predicted as the precursor to a major snowstorm. I had already planned two or three days of cancellations, depending on where it happens when. But I’m still waiting. Cars are whizzing by on our road and my sinuses are telling me that it’s coming but I can’t call or e-mail anyone about late appointments yet. I have to wait for the first visible sign of what the reality will be. And I wonder what the status is in Syracuse, 80 miles away, where I have tentative appointments tomorrow and/or Thursday depending on the storm. It’s too early to call; I have to wait. I can feel the tension in my body and my mind. Once the precipitation appears I’ll be able to spring into action, make plans, see what’s possible and settle into an agenda that will probably take my work life most of the way to Christmas because of the rescheduling of this busy week. For now, though, I have to wait.

We all have times of waiting, some like my morning today. Sometimes our wait is long and much more meaningful – pregnancy, for example. And what a bundle of feelings and events accompany that experience! The Hebrew people waited for thousands of years for a Messiah; many still wait. Those of us who believe that Christ is the fulfillment of that promise are experiencing again the ritual of waiting as we count the days to Christmas.

I am full of questions this morning, occasioned by something as mundane as the weather. What is it really that I’m waiting for? How am I to be while I wait? Will my life be any different after Christmas because of having spiritualized these weeks of waiting – and, really, how am I growing in consciousness of my capacity for change until then? Maybe the storm will miss us and then I’ll just have to pick up and go on with the routine of the days that might have been an opportunity for silence and contemplation. But maybe this brief time has been enough. I feel calmer now, more awake. And isn’t that what it’s all about?

Feed the Birds

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birdfeeder, birds, praise, psalm 84, snow, The Sophia Center for Spirituality

We’ve been blessed for the last few years with new visitors to our bird feeders, including bluebirds, flickers and an amazingly vibrant scarlet tanager. Lately there has been a large gathering of our familiar mourning doves around the sliding glass door to our deck, looking like a women’s study group at the obligatory coffee break. Seed is scattered regularly around the deck in winter to calm the human anxiety of birds’ ability to find nourishment as the snow deepens. It is here, as the psalm refrain proclaims this morning, that “God lives among his people.”

I love Psalm 84 for its inclusive vision of the reign of God where “all creatures great and small” are welcome and cared for. As the snow continues to fall gently this morning a beautiful image seems quite apt for me: Even the sparrow finds a home and the swallow a nest in which she puts her young…Blessed are they who dwell in your house! Continually they praise you! I’m tempted to snuggle back under my bedclothes and listen to the birds, joining them in their morning song.