It is still pretty hot and humid in the Hudson Valley, and the hottest room of all in my home is the meditation room. There is still so much packing to be done before our move from this house at the end of July... and yet I have been procrastinating- choosing waterfalls and rivers over cleaning, books over boxes, and practicing yoga and meditation amidst the mess.
I don't have the means to travel, and between work and moving it might be difficult to call this time of year "a vacation". There is a part of me that gets a little sour when I hear about exciting trips to beaches and islands and national parks... or just time in the day to play in the sun. (I'm taking a look at that- Why am I triggered? What's that about? I think it has something to do with belonging...) But a closer look reveals wealth that is all around...there are such treasures to be found in simple weekend forays into these mountains and rivers. Isn't it strange that we might need to own so much and travel so far when the cascading hidden waterfalls lie undiscovered right in our own backyards? On weekend adventures with my family we have found so many treasures: prickly pear cactus at the top of Sugarloaf Ridge, a rocky water slide- pulled by a current in and out of a deep pool in the Esopus River, a slithering bull snake on a muddy path to the top of Huckleberry Point in the Catskills. When I think of these treasures I am reminded that what has been in deepest need of changing at this time is not my surroundings, but myself-- that I might awaken and see with new eyes.
Though I am still working 40 hours a week, I feel a sense of vacation and re-grounding from within. Daily meditation and body practice- yoga and tai chi- have brought me back to myself, with a new sense of boldness, courage, and strength to face challenges. This is not a time to rest or escape, but to continue discernment and integration. Though I am out of the woods of depression and anxiety (for the most part), it is essential to remain vigilant: to notice emotions like fear and anger when they arise, to look closely at where they are coming from, and to continue the alchemical work of transforming those difficult feelings into strength and love.
Summer is also the time to fall in love... and so I fall down on my knees in worship and wonder at life. I have the realization that my own smallness is a gift-- for only in the total loss and confusion and frustration that I've been in, can I let go into mystery. There are no answers that I can find, though I have thought and thought and retraced the various routes in my mind a thousand times. And yet, through it all, my ecstatic mad love for God has grown deeper. I let go, laugh, shrug my shoulders, and say ok....I trust you... let's see where this path will lead. You are so much more present and wonderful than this tiny little ego I cling to so fiercely.
Summer also opens me to take on greater religious discipline. I don't quite understand congregations that take "time off" in the summer, and it makes me a bit curious about the purposes and privilege assumptions of these communities. If only the poor and oppressed could take time off....if only armies would be at peace, the imprisoned would be free, the sick well, the dying born back to life.. for a time. Vacations are not the same as Sacred rest. Sacred rest, as it is practiced in sabbath, is a time for greater community, for unplugging, for celebrating and remembering a communal history in story and ritual. A summer sabbath then might be the perfect time to deepen our soul care and our outreach, which are so intertwined. It was, after all, on a summer of 2005 that I wandered into my own first UU community- seeking meaning in my search and wondering about the practice of prayer. In one of the largest congregations, there were three participants, which included a minister. It was through that experience that I found a spiritual home. While some religious communities shut their doors, others are more active than ever-- feeding children free lunches and caring for the homeless. Last year my congregation housed homeless families for a week in the summer, and I felt a renewal of spirit among us.
These days, I continue to see summer as a time to deepen my practice, and am considering further routes of study and engagement- perhaps within the Zen tradition- after I have completed my spiritual direction training. As an interspiritual contemplative, I need the discipline of a tradition and community to support the cultivation of my practice. It might be any religious discipline that is able to fully integrate spiritual practice with daily life which calls to me-- whether it is a visit to Zen Mountain Monastery with my kids on a Sunday morning, or the words of Reb Zalman Schacter (I am savoring Jewish with Feeling on the front porch rocking chairs in the cooler evenings), or the wisdom of the Benedictine path remembered from college course studies of long ago. All this treasured world religious heritage rings me like a bell, calling me to the moment.
Summer brings me deeper into this contemplative life, and it is to this life that my soul is drawn. This is not retreat or vacation. This is a time to awaken...to celebrate being alive...and to fall deeply into love.
I don't have the means to travel, and between work and moving it might be difficult to call this time of year "a vacation". There is a part of me that gets a little sour when I hear about exciting trips to beaches and islands and national parks... or just time in the day to play in the sun. (I'm taking a look at that- Why am I triggered? What's that about? I think it has something to do with belonging...) But a closer look reveals wealth that is all around...there are such treasures to be found in simple weekend forays into these mountains and rivers. Isn't it strange that we might need to own so much and travel so far when the cascading hidden waterfalls lie undiscovered right in our own backyards? On weekend adventures with my family we have found so many treasures: prickly pear cactus at the top of Sugarloaf Ridge, a rocky water slide- pulled by a current in and out of a deep pool in the Esopus River, a slithering bull snake on a muddy path to the top of Huckleberry Point in the Catskills. When I think of these treasures I am reminded that what has been in deepest need of changing at this time is not my surroundings, but myself-- that I might awaken and see with new eyes.
Though I am still working 40 hours a week, I feel a sense of vacation and re-grounding from within. Daily meditation and body practice- yoga and tai chi- have brought me back to myself, with a new sense of boldness, courage, and strength to face challenges. This is not a time to rest or escape, but to continue discernment and integration. Though I am out of the woods of depression and anxiety (for the most part), it is essential to remain vigilant: to notice emotions like fear and anger when they arise, to look closely at where they are coming from, and to continue the alchemical work of transforming those difficult feelings into strength and love.
Summer is also the time to fall in love... and so I fall down on my knees in worship and wonder at life. I have the realization that my own smallness is a gift-- for only in the total loss and confusion and frustration that I've been in, can I let go into mystery. There are no answers that I can find, though I have thought and thought and retraced the various routes in my mind a thousand times. And yet, through it all, my ecstatic mad love for God has grown deeper. I let go, laugh, shrug my shoulders, and say ok....I trust you... let's see where this path will lead. You are so much more present and wonderful than this tiny little ego I cling to so fiercely.
Summer also opens me to take on greater religious discipline. I don't quite understand congregations that take "time off" in the summer, and it makes me a bit curious about the purposes and privilege assumptions of these communities. If only the poor and oppressed could take time off....if only armies would be at peace, the imprisoned would be free, the sick well, the dying born back to life.. for a time. Vacations are not the same as Sacred rest. Sacred rest, as it is practiced in sabbath, is a time for greater community, for unplugging, for celebrating and remembering a communal history in story and ritual. A summer sabbath then might be the perfect time to deepen our soul care and our outreach, which are so intertwined. It was, after all, on a summer of 2005 that I wandered into my own first UU community- seeking meaning in my search and wondering about the practice of prayer. In one of the largest congregations, there were three participants, which included a minister. It was through that experience that I found a spiritual home. While some religious communities shut their doors, others are more active than ever-- feeding children free lunches and caring for the homeless. Last year my congregation housed homeless families for a week in the summer, and I felt a renewal of spirit among us.
These days, I continue to see summer as a time to deepen my practice, and am considering further routes of study and engagement- perhaps within the Zen tradition- after I have completed my spiritual direction training. As an interspiritual contemplative, I need the discipline of a tradition and community to support the cultivation of my practice. It might be any religious discipline that is able to fully integrate spiritual practice with daily life which calls to me-- whether it is a visit to Zen Mountain Monastery with my kids on a Sunday morning, or the words of Reb Zalman Schacter (I am savoring Jewish with Feeling on the front porch rocking chairs in the cooler evenings), or the wisdom of the Benedictine path remembered from college course studies of long ago. All this treasured world religious heritage rings me like a bell, calling me to the moment.
Summer brings me deeper into this contemplative life, and it is to this life that my soul is drawn. This is not retreat or vacation. This is a time to awaken...to celebrate being alive...and to fall deeply into love.
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