Every Luminous Movement

Here's the deal--a few weeks ago, I wrote my last post on A Path to My Woods and tossed it up on Facebook with this poem from Hafiz:

Every Moment

"I rarely let the word 'No' escape
from my mouth

Because it is so plain to my soul

That God has shouted 'Yes!, Yes!, Yes!'
To every luminous movement in Existence.

~Hafiz (trans. by Daniel Ladinsky, I Heard God Laughing)


I hit the submit button with a bit of hesitation because this is such a bold and outlandish statement. The word 'no' escapes my lips daily. I'm the mother of four young children. How in the world could Hafiz be so blind? There are a bijillion things to say 'no' to in the world; a bizillion gut-wrenching injustices to fight against every day. So what was up with Hafiz? Was he blind to the craziness? Did he, as my friend replied in jest, ever have a two year old?

This was my response (more for myself than for her): "I'm certain he did. This poem was most definitely written in a more ecstatic moment when even the exploits of two-year-olds are seen as an opportunity for the growth of humankind. Hmmn. Does that sound crazy? Kind of, but that is Hafiz. There is horrific evil in the world far outweighing 'terrible-twos', and yet, to see a the broader picture is to embrace the hunger and tragedy to be weighed with generosity and compassion. Have we reached a place of wholeness, no. But can I say "yes" to the beautiful process engulfed in Divine presence, Yes! :)"

I've had moments like these, moments when the whole of existence seemed to fill me up with awareness of the Ever-Present. Knock me off my feet if I haven't had that same experience standing by a gushing river, eyes lifted towards the trees, as I have standing at a sink of dirty dishes, hands soaked in sudsy water. God's Spirit is not something for us to 'usher in' with our praises, not something for us to invite. God's Spirit IS. This is what Hafiz recognized.

It's one thing to say "Yes, Yes, Yes" to a sink full of dishes or a pile of dirty laundry. It's an entirely different thing to "shout 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' to every luminous movement in existence." How can the All-Knowing shout 'Yes!' when we can see very clearly so much to say 'no' to? Does this mean we sit back blissfully accepting all that is with no response? Well, no.

I love this quote by former UN secretary-general--and mystic--Dag Hammarskjold: "For all that has been, thanks. For all that will be, yes". Hammarskjold was awarded the Nobel Peace Prize post-humanously. On a life-time scale, his response to 'yes and thank you' was a luminous movement towards peace. On an eternal scale--every ounce of light to every ounce of darkness--we say yes, thank you.

The human experience is plagued with hunger and horror and tears upon tears. And God shouts, 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' to the luminous imperfect longing and 'Yes! Yes! Yes!' to the luminous movement of grace and compassion offered in return. And the angels in heaven whisper, "grow, grow."And we do.

Absolutely Clear

Today I've been mourning my weakness, a bit sad that I don't aways live up to the awake-ness that I pursue in life. I know weakness in itself is an avenue of spiritual growth, but sometimes it's hard to rise above when we feel deflated.

Then I read this, among other of my favorites poems, and found myself back home, so filled up and reminded. This is just what I need.

Absolutely Clear

Don't surrender your loneliness
So quickly.
Let it cut more deep.

Let it ferment and season you
As few human
Or even divine ingredients can.

Something missing in my heart tonight
Has made my eyes so soft
My voice
So tender,

My need of God
Absolutely
Clear.

~Hafiz
(trans. by Daniel Landinsky)

Thankful Thursday: Remembering

Today I'm thankful for memory...the ability to look back over my shoulder and say "Ohhh...now I get it." True, some memories would seem to be better forgotten, but I can't ultimately feel anything stronger than thankfulness. Why? Because I've chosen the path of listening...learning from what life experiences have to teach me. So when tinges of remorse or humiliation attempt to dampen certain memories from my past, I lift my head again and listen, and remember the joy of growing in spirit.

Like a Hungry Begger

Refuse to fall down.
If you cannot refuse to fall down,
refuse to stay down.
If you cannot refuse to stay down
lift your heart toward heaven
and like a hungry beggar,
ask that it be filled
and it will be filled.
You may be pushed down.
You may be kept from rising,
But no one can keep you from lifting
your heart toward heaven--only you.
It is in the middle of misery that
so much becomes clear.
The one who says nothing good came of this,
is not yet listening.

~Clarissa Pinkola Estes~

More about story...and some of mine

As I get closer to people I'm less inclined to jump to simple conclusions about their life and struggles (or how I might fix them). As the "armchair adviser" in me recedes, compassion, sadness and hope grow. As one of my mentors told me, "When you really get to know another person, sometimes all you'll want to do is weep."

Transparency fosters this continual revelation. And the more open another person is with me, the more clearly I see the truth of Plato's saying, "Be kind to everyone you meet, for everyone is waging a terrible internal battle."

~Jenny Schroedel

I concocted a soymilk eggnog latte this morning, slightly sceptical about how it would turn out. Not bad, though...very sippable. I added just a dash of cinnamon and a few drops of vanilla. Viola! Me, the barista.

Leaving breakfast dishes scattered on the table, I sat down at my computer to start writing, when a full 3D picture of my kitchen sink flashed into my brain, obscuring every other thought. So to the kitchen I flew, mindlessly arranging dirty dishes in a basin of suds and cascading water. Suddenly awareness returned. I blinked my eyes, dazed, hands dripping.

This is about being real, I think to myself. Another authentic moment...the kind that brings you back to the storyline. Mindless dashes are not uncommon in my world, but I've had 34 years now to examine those interesting quirks...not quite so many in higher level thinking.

(I am reminded of this and this and this. )

Here's something real:

When I was younger, I would have instances when disturbing scenarios would repeat over and over in my mind. One common scene would be me getting into a car and shutting the door on my leg. I would try frantically again and again to get that leg in before the door shut. It felt overwhelming, impossible. Finally, with all my brainpower, I would force the leg in and slam the door shut. Sometimes, I felt physically tired from the stress these type of episodes would cause. And, honestly, it was pretty disturbing. I thought I was weird and probably the only person to have this type of brain. High stress seemed to trigger moments like this and make them more intense.

When I felt extra stressed, I would start blinking. Sometimes my eyes would feel stuck closed. I had to work to get them open. As I got older, I would bargain with myself. Say, if I didn't get the silverware put away in the drawer just right, I would have to stab myself with one of the knives. Sounds crazy, I know. I felt a little fearful putting the utensils away, but I never followed through on those sorts of bargains. They were just there, reflecting the inner-struggle. The scenarios changed as I got older, but were always most intense in times of stress or emotional upheaval.

Now I know that I'm not crazy, just a bit obsessive...and knowing is half the battle. I can laugh at my mind's tendancy to need a tidied dorm-room in college before I could start studying.I can laugh at having to make sure the dishes are done before I blog. I can also say to myself, "leave them," and walk away. And that is an accomplishment that brings me peace. My leg no longer gets stuck in the door either. The occasional weird thought is allowed to pass through and move along without having to be "fixed."

A story that once brought me deep pain and frustration now only leaves a tinge of bittersweet. Why? Because this is a little girl I know, whom I have found deep compassion and love for...a little girl who has grown into me. And that makes me smile.

But it's only part of the story and the story is just that...a story....something to learn from, cry, laugh and grow through.

Loss

I've been a fan of Steven Curtis Chapman's music since the mid-eighties. Many of his songs have been a part of my spiritual journey. So I was shocked and saddened to read about the tragic death of the Chapman's youngest daughter last week. Steven and his wife, Mary Beth have a grown daughter and two nearly grown sons and also three adopted daughter's from China. Maria was their youngest.

My heart was deeply moved, though, watching the video below. The song was written about Steven's two youngest daughters, Stevie Joy and Maria Sue.
How precious and fleeting are our moments. Truly, the only moment we have is now. now. and now. Embrace the moment, live fully, be awake, be present.