I have recently developed an appreciation of the importance and beauty of ritual...I've had a number of teachers. Through the practice of meditation, the simple ritual of awareness on breathing in and breathing out, has brought me closer to a calm and quiet awareness of this present moment. My attempt at a daily sunrise two mile walk has been such a pleasant day starting ritual. My cat, Simcha, has quite a repertoire of rituals...and I see her take such joy in her daily "tasks" ...we have certain games we repeat, certain routines at bedtime and mealtime, and morning time. And I have been gradually getting better at reading/praying the evening prayer from the Book of Common Prayer (with the help of this website): http://dailyoffice.wordpress.com The liturgy of the Anglican (Episcopal) church has become more and more meaningful, the Eucharist, the singing of the psalms...rituals down through the centuries and across the world that have enriched lives.
Of course...my OCD tendencies may play a role in my gravitating toward ritual, so I can see the downside (daily checking stock prices, retirement accounts, counting the number of clients I have seen each month, even ritualizing my breakfast (eating Oatmeal from Thanksgiving to Easter...cold cereal from Easter to Thanksgiving...and a bagel every Saturday (and sometimes Sunday)... Rituals have been distracting and silly, as well, in my life, and have robbed me of some of the joy of living in this moment, and seeing the newness and freshness of each day.
I heard Ted Kooser give a talk..."How poetry saved my life" He talked about being diagnosed and treated for cancer, I believe of the larynx or somewhere in his throat area, and during the chaos of his treatment, he developed a ritual of a morning walk followed by writing one poem about something he observed on his walk. By bringing order to one small area of his life, he gradually brought order out of chaos in the rest of his life. This stuck with me.
I will strive to keep a sense of healthy ritual alive in the days and weeks ahead.
Tomorrow morning....my PET scan...
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
deeper things...six amazing words
"...your love is better than life" Psalm 63:3
I grew up on the south shore of Long Island, a few miles from the Atlantic Ocean. As a kid, my mother would take us to the beach...we would get to wade in the water until it was about four inches deep...all holding hands and huddling together...before retreating to the shore for a sandwich and a peach.
At some point though, I got old enough to venture out into deeper water...(with friends, and not my mother) and it was an enlightening experience to have my first wave break on top of me. The realization that, at least for the moment, I had no power of my own to come to my feet as the wave knocked me down and rolled me like a pair of dice...I was completely at the mercy of a power I had not previously encountered. For a moment, up or down didn't really make much difference...then, mercifully, the wave, having had its way with me, dissipated, and I, sputtering sandy, salty water, weakly stood up, speechless at the terror of that experience.
So...how is it, I ask myself...that I come to know the truth of these six amazing words?...it is not derived from the highest achievement of my intellectual abilities, nor from the benefit of my 'higher' education, nor, for that matter, anything "taught" to me in a Bible study. It is closer, I think, to that wave...it broke on top of me, had its way with me, and left me to get back on my feet, speechless, awed by the power of that wave, and with a whole new awareness of the ocean.
The notation for Psalm 63 states the psalm was written by David when he was in the desert of Judah...this verse came to me a few hours after my biopsy results were given to me...came to me as I was driving my Suburu to pick up some Chinese food...not exactly a desert...but nonetheless...I was a bit emotionally parched...
and these 6 amazing words washed over me...or, more accurately, broke over me, like a wave. Knocked me down, had their way, and left me...awed by His love...
When you've been knocked down by a wave, there are no more questions to ask about the power of the ocean...you know...
I just know...
I grew up on the south shore of Long Island, a few miles from the Atlantic Ocean. As a kid, my mother would take us to the beach...we would get to wade in the water until it was about four inches deep...all holding hands and huddling together...before retreating to the shore for a sandwich and a peach.
At some point though, I got old enough to venture out into deeper water...(with friends, and not my mother) and it was an enlightening experience to have my first wave break on top of me. The realization that, at least for the moment, I had no power of my own to come to my feet as the wave knocked me down and rolled me like a pair of dice...I was completely at the mercy of a power I had not previously encountered. For a moment, up or down didn't really make much difference...then, mercifully, the wave, having had its way with me, dissipated, and I, sputtering sandy, salty water, weakly stood up, speechless at the terror of that experience.
So...how is it, I ask myself...that I come to know the truth of these six amazing words?...it is not derived from the highest achievement of my intellectual abilities, nor from the benefit of my 'higher' education, nor, for that matter, anything "taught" to me in a Bible study. It is closer, I think, to that wave...it broke on top of me, had its way with me, and left me to get back on my feet, speechless, awed by the power of that wave, and with a whole new awareness of the ocean.
The notation for Psalm 63 states the psalm was written by David when he was in the desert of Judah...this verse came to me a few hours after my biopsy results were given to me...came to me as I was driving my Suburu to pick up some Chinese food...not exactly a desert...but nonetheless...I was a bit emotionally parched...
and these 6 amazing words washed over me...or, more accurately, broke over me, like a wave. Knocked me down, had their way, and left me...awed by His love...
When you've been knocked down by a wave, there are no more questions to ask about the power of the ocean...you know...
I just know...
Monday, August 3, 2009
checking in, checking out
I am in this waiting phase...48 hours away from a definitive (hopefully) diagnosis via a PET Scan...the source of my cancer should light up...I talk with clients and for the moment I am distracted, their cares, their concerns, their pain become my focus. And when they leave...if I don't keep my thoughts active they drift toward this tumor...this fear...and then I focus on the immense love of God...and the fear recedes...for awhile...and then back again it comes...and so goes my day...
So I feel like my awareness of myself, my mortality, my fear, the trials that lie ahead comes and goes in waves as my awareness of others, God, and deeper things comes to the foreground. Can I hold one without letting the other go...not yet...
So I feel like my awareness of myself, my mortality, my fear, the trials that lie ahead comes and goes in waves as my awareness of others, God, and deeper things comes to the foreground. Can I hold one without letting the other go...not yet...
deeper things...compassionate friends
I received such gifts today...flowers from a client whose appointment I had to cancel in order to schedule my PET scan this week...a virtual hug from a woman who's own trials with leukemia eclipse any I've had to experience, and so many well wishes and prayers...I am so touched by these...kindness runs deeper than cancer...
one of my favorite poems...
Kindness
By Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the
Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept
him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow
as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
one of my favorite poems...
Kindness
By Naomi Shihab Nye
Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken will stare out the window forever.
Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness, you must travel where the
Indian in a white poncho lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans and the simple breath that kept
him alive.
Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside, you must know sorrow
as the other deepest thing. You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day
to mail letters and purchase bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
it is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you every where
like a shadow or a friend.
Deeper things...a poem
Tree
It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.
Even in this
one lifetime,
you will have to choose.
That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books—
Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.
Jane Hirshfield
This calm immensity...when I first read the poem a few weeks before I was diagnosed, I took it for me to mean that I was not leaving enough room in my life for the important things. Now...I am wondering...is this immensity ...God...cancer...death...love...or are there a number of "redwoods" growing up around my house...asking me to choose,to notice to live with while the noticing and the choices still remain.
It is foolish
to let a young redwood
grow next to a house.
Even in this
one lifetime,
you will have to choose.
That great calm being,
this clutter of soup pots and books—
Already the first branch-tips brush at the window.
Softly, calmly, immensity taps at your life.
Jane Hirshfield
This calm immensity...when I first read the poem a few weeks before I was diagnosed, I took it for me to mean that I was not leaving enough room in my life for the important things. Now...I am wondering...is this immensity ...God...cancer...death...love...or are there a number of "redwoods" growing up around my house...asking me to choose,to notice to live with while the noticing and the choices still remain.
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