The Vulnerability of Open Space

 And you find your soul, and greatness has a defender. . .

From “People Like Us,” by Robert Bly

I claim to want to find my soul, yet today

and tomorrow stretch before me with minimal agenda.

Instead of joy, I feel fear. The vulnerability of open space

is like being on a treeless plain exposed to enemies

who come to do battle. 

Is this more true than I realize?

Are the enemies my own fears and longings

kept at bay by my busyness?

Outward silence and solitude don’t mean

I’m alone and quiet. There is a cacophony within;

I feel like the Gerasene demoniac. Legion is my name.

I want to find my soul. I want to be well. Down deep,

beneath the inner noise, I know this is true.

You have made me for greatness, for largeness,

for fullness of joy. Free me from the noise within me.

Let me hear the song you sing to my soul.

Seeing with Eyes of Love

A video post, of a devotional I gave this week.

Lifelong Learning

I celebrated my 60^th birthday recently. In the weeks leading up to it and in the weeks following, I’ve spent a fair amount of time reflecting on my life to this point. I’ve thought about the things that were important to me as a younger person, what I loved and how I was creative and the people who helped to shape me as I grew up. It has felt like crawling under a house to see its foundation, to know what undergirds the structure.

It has been a good exercise, and I continue to find myself surprised by sudden recollection of a memory that gives me insight into who I am.

Honoring the years and events that have brought me to this point in my life, that have influenced what I value and how I see myself and the world, helps me to appreciate the whole of my life. I realize that it the painful or difficult experiences have been the times I now most appreciate, because I can look back and recognize that I gained strength and depth of knowledge that I wouldn’t have otherwise.

When you can recognize this, it makes labels like “good” and “bad” meaningless in the personal, particular sense. This is not to say that when someone injures you, it’s a good thing, but good can come from experiences where harm was intended and inflicted. Growth most often happens through struggle.

One thing I’ve learned through difficult seasons of life is that you cannot plan for every eventuality. However you’ve planned your life to unfold, it is likely that something will derail your plans. When I teach yoga, I encourage students to find the calm within themselves. Our outer circumstances can change suddenly and violently. We cannot control other people and events, but we can control what our internal state will be in response to the unexpected.

This is why the discipline of solitude matters. To hear the voice of God calling us beloved, we have to tune out the voices that tell us we are not. A strong sense of self and a deep sense of inner calm come when we know ourselves as deeply loved by God. And through sixty years of living, knowing that I am God’s beloved is the most important lesson I’ve learned.