When You're Weary, Feeling Small

Enlightened people tend to scare us off sometimes.  They seem too good.  They've reached a place that seems unattainable at times.  That's why I like the writings of Pema Chodron who has books with titles like When Things Fall Apart.  She's my kind of enlightened.  Enlightened means to bring light to the human condition.  That's why in meditation, you put your feet on the ground or you sit in such a way that the power of the earth and the power of the universe can both flow through you.

Anyhow, back to the human condition.  I used to post only when I was inspired and that meant long periods would go by between postings sometimes. There's another way to look at spiritual writing, though; you could think of it as an awareness of today's human dilemmas in the light of universal truths.  That's where I'm going in this blog so aptly titled "sacred shit."  Some days it may be mostly sacred with a little bit of shit and some days it may be mostly shit with a little bit of sacred.

In spiritual practice of any kind, it doesn't do to soar above the immediate.  You start with the immediate and become increasingly aware of yourself contained by that.  Eventually, universal forces join you and you experience a harmony or vibration from the union of today's dilemmas with the eternal good.

So, I'm sitting in Maine by the ocean.  I'm feeling particularly lonely and guilty.  I'm feeling guilty of not being "good enough."  Not good enough as a daughter, mother, sister, writer.  This is where true spirituality begins.  As the Simon and Garfunkel song says, "When you're weary, feeling small, when tears are in your eyes, I'll dry them all.  I'm on your side."  And, voila, the God joins the human.  The universal good is on our side!

When you think of it that way, it's amazing.  When you cherish the human condition as the starting point of co-creation, when you realize that the divine word, any divine word, becomes real in you, you're on the path.  I can feel that integration as I sit here.  However small I may be feeling, I contain the universe.  Namaste, Roxie.

When in Doubt . . .

When in doubt, go to the ocean.  Any ocean will do.  Go where the deep, deep water stretches farther than the eye can imagine.  Where the waves pound on the rocks even when the wind doesn't blow.  Go where the land ends.  God, by any name, is there.

Here I am on Bailey's Island in Maine sitting on a deck in the rain staring at the sea.  The sky is grey, the ocean is grey.   It's a feast for the soul in muted tones.  The sound of the sea can keep me there soaking wet.  Its unbridled passion swirling and pounding making human illusions of power fade away.  It takes me there on the deck or the rocks or wherever I find it and tosses me into the universe, my soul meeting its Soul, mating, mating.

And yet the ocean's mighty roar and rush to pour itself into any willing container is completely contained by the land, isn't it?  It rushes up and preens itself, giving everything it has to knock over those defenses.  But the land, stands.  Making it safe.

The dragons of life can rear up and howl their ferocious howls.   They seem to tower over us for a moment only to recede with grace, bowing to the steady nature of the earth.

Spiritual life is like this.  Doubt and terror assail us with mysteries beyond our comprehension.  We stand our sacred ground, breathe our universal breath, and the union is complete.  When in doubt, I go to the ocean.  There my soul takes its stand on land.  It takes a knee to the sea.  Roxie

If I Give My Will To You, Will You Handle It With Care . . .

Almost every spiritual practice seems to ask that you surrender your human will or perhaps ego to some higher being or another.  I seem incapable of doing that.

Oh, I say the words.  I pray and meditate.  I recognize that I can't "fix" my life by myself.  I try to "let go and let God" as the saying goes.

Alas, I'm clueless how this would look, what I would do, or what I would feel.  I got nothing!  I can be devastated, overwhelmed, terrified and yada yada, but the best I can do at those moments is say:  "Help!"  That doesn't feel like surrender.  It feels like I've been taken hostage by life.  I'd like to be more willing to trust some universal good.  I want to do this; I don't know how.

I sometimes have fun with it, playing my guitar and singing the old song: "If I give my heart to you" only substituting the word "will" for heart.  So, I can read about it, pray about it, joke about it, sing about it, but I can't really do it.

Yes, I'm working the 12-Steps and I have no problem admitting I'm powerless over lots of things and people.  I've got the first step down cold.  Then, we get to the second step where you recognize that maybe there's a higher being that could restore some clarity.  I get that.  At the third step which is actually turning your will over to this alleged being, I'm stumped.  Did anyone once feel stuck like this and then find ways to let go?

A friend of mine said that he started out by letting go of little things like having to control the family remote!  Another friend said he gives his will to God when he gets up in the morning and spends the rest of the day trying to get it back.  So, I know it's not the easiest thing for many, many of us.  Please post your ideas in the comments section for the benefit of all those, like me, who can go through the motions but secretly know it's not for real.  Roxie

Mother

Mother's Day can be a tough time for the many, many people whose relationship with mom is painful or non-existent.  Additionally, some mothers are grieving for their children who died before them or who are distant either physically or emotionally.  Some moms have children in harm's way today.  This is a tribute to all these women and men.

I also want to salute the non-traditional moms who bring love to their "children--foster moms, dads who also serve as moms, grandmothers who are raising grandchildren. mentors who "mother" young people, teachers who mother the lost children in their classrooms.  A day in honor of mothers is a great idea, but mothering is a principle or an energy that transcends gender.

Why am I writing about this, you wonder?  Alas, I had a troubled relationship with my mother.  While I am slowly making peace with this reality that permeated my life from my early childhood until my mother's death and beyond, there will always be a wound where I wish my mother had been.

Share your mother stories in the comments section.  I'd like to hear them.  Roxie

This Little Life

It's what we have.  This life.  When things get chaotic around me or in my brain, if I can remember to stop and check in, I can sometimes return to a serene place.

Checking in starts with taking a breath to slow me down.  Then I do a little scan of my physical self noting where there is tension or pain in the body--often it's in my gut or lower back. Then, I do an inner scan to see what thoughts I'm obsessing over, what emotions are overwhelming me or are just out of reach.

Finally, and this is the coup de grace, I say these words:  This is my little life.  This is my house. This is my yard.  These are my friends.  This is my doggie.

This small exercise makes me feel safe within my own container.  I feel grounded in my life.

When I was in college I wrote a poem that I never forgot.  It had a line that went like this:

"My little loves, crickets, night, and death's surprise" tell me that I'm not in charge and neither are the laws and rules of this world.  It went on to say:  "They crucify. Christ and friends who understand and you and I, die."  Kind of bleak, you might say, but it doesn't feel that way to me.  To me it says that this world and all of us within it are, to use today's term, dysfunctional.  It's part of the human condition, of being an innately spiritual being in a physical world.

How do we, all of us, begin to manifest spiritual principles like love and compassion in a physical world that values being the best over being together (to put it nicely).  Survival of the fittest instead of the well being of the least fit.  Oddly and counter-intuitively we do it by honoring our little life first.  By seeking our own enlightenment first.  Only then can we honor the lives of others and support their enlightenment.

So I start each day saying:  This is my little life.  Namaste.  Roxie