Making A New and Joyful Sound

In so many ways it feels like a new life to me, after surgery. And a new life is best expressed in new sounds...

A lifetime ago, I trained as a classical guitarist, starting to play at 9, taking my first lessons at 12, and continuing them in college, where I minored in music in addition to my two majors, Religious Studies and Psychology.

For many years, I was absorbed in practicing, writing music, and playing at the various colleges and universities I attended, and where I also worked in Campus Ministry. But in my late twenties, some time after having my son, all that stopped, since I really no longer had the time to play. So I did something radical. Since I did not feel I could adequately practice, I quit playing altogether, and hung my guitar on the wall. And there it remained, until a dear friend of mine, a former musician, simply looked at me and said to me in horror: "You've hung your guitar on the wall? Like a piece of art?"

So, I took it down and made a foray or two back into playing briefly, but I still didn't make the time to practice and frankly, to relearn everything...

A week ago today, I attended a concert with this very friend who challenged me about hanging my guitar on the wall. We had both followed Mindy Smith for years, and we delighted in our front row seats where we could literally interact with her. I was consumed with Mindy's playing and the joy she exuded. I remembered that feeling...

Later in the week, some friends who are also musicians and teachers visited me. We got to talking about guitars, and before I knew it, I went to bed dreaming of guitars. One made its presence known in my heart.

And so yesterday I went in search of this guitar, and found "her," a 3/4 "Little Martin," and brought her home. I had never owned a steel stringed guitar before.

The sales guy who graciously helped me laughed when I refused a pick and propped the little Martin on my left thigh, instantly knowing I had been "classically" trained. And though I tried other guitars, I kept gravitating back to this one, though I bought the one that no one had ever played before, straight out of its box, and not the one hanging on the wall...

I bought this guitar for me. To make a joyful and new sound unto the Lord. I did not buy it to play professionally, or for anyone else. And only my dear friend, with whom I attended the Mindy Smith concert, was able to recognize this, when she acknowledged that a new friend had come into my life. She knew that I would now make "Divine Music:"

"How exciting! A new friend to welcome in the new era. The Martin sounds just perfect. It will bring you much joy to play for the love of playing. For you. What you want to hear. For your heart. For God. Enjoy every minute of getting to know her."

Yes - it was not about playing for others It was all about praying in a new way - in a way my heart had prayed for many years.

In the words of St. Irenaeus: "[S]he who sings, prays twice."

I cannot explain how symbolic surgery has been for me. Something ended, and something began. My dreams are filled with images of dying, and rising and giving birth. It is all very interesting to me and I have a sense that its meaning will unfold in due time.

For now, I am going to quietly enjoy my new friend and companion. I think I am going to call her "Cecilia Saraswati" - in honor of the Christian patroness and Hindu goddess of music and the arts.

Cherishing Ordinary Moments

Life is filled with ordinary moments which we notice, when we allow life to slow down to a crawl.

Life these days is filled with long walks, reading several newspapers from cover to cover - yes - the old fashioned way - in print of all things - and time is also spent losing myself in novels, and enjoying fine wines and home cooked meals.

Life is filled with interacting with friends and loved ones, either online or through visits, or phone calls, or other ways.

Sunday, I met dear friends at a concert. That was the most dramatic thing I'd done since surgery. I went to hear Mindy Smith, whose music my friends and I had been following for several years.

Today I came across this quote from Rumi, which seemed so appropriate for this time in my life right now:

"Observe the wonders as they occur around you.
Do not claim them.
Feel the artistry moving through,
and be silent."

Each day, is an opportunity to observe the wonders that occur around you, through you and others - in the simplest of little things, such as enjoying a cup of coffee, or exquisite Chinese tea, gifted to me by a friend...

Earlier in the week, I read this by Pema Chödrön, entitled, "Cherish Ordinary Moments:"

"In our most ordinary days we have moments of happiness, moments of comfort and enjoyment, moments of seeing something that pleased us, something that touched us, moments of contacting the tenderness of our hearts. We can take joy in that. I find that it’s essential during the day to actually note when I feel happiness or when something positive happens, and to begin to cherish those moments as precious. Gradually we can begin to cherish the preciousness of our whole life just as it is, with its ups and downs, its failures and successes, its roughness and smoothness."

May your days be filled with the cherishing of ordinary moments. Drink them in, and enjoy them well. We never know how many of them we have, and each one is precious!

Blessings

I have a dear friend whose birthday it is today. She signs everything she writes, every card, every note, every email, simply, with "Blessings." It is an offering of her heart.

Years ago, she gave me this beautiful little "Blessing" prayer that I laminated and fixed to my laptop, where it greets me every morning. I have shared this acrostic poem before on this blog, yet it bears repeating again, from time to time:

Blessings

Be present.
Let the day flow with grace. Be flexible.
Expect nothing. Give thanks for everything.
Surrender. Be open.
Speak only kindness.
Impart only love.
Never forget that you are not alone.
Give so that you may receive.
See goodness in yourself and others.

It is such a simple prayer, but a beautiful reminder of how we should live our lives, each and every day. Today, I honor my dear friend, and lift her up in my prayers. I will try to embody and reflect this simple prayer.

Yesterday, when I called to wish her a happy birthday, one day early, my friend had her beautiful daughter, a gifted musician, sing and play for me the song "Blessings" by Laura Story, that I have so come to love. It was such a fitting gift on so many levels, so filled with meaning for me.

I leave you with the lyrics to this beautiful song, and a link so that you may listen to it as well.

May your life be filled with infinite blessings and grace. May you always remember, that blessing others is the greatest gift you can ever give. Each blessing you offer, reverberates eternally, and may each one return, and be given back to you, a thousandfold!

"Blessings"
By Laura Story

We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing
For prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love is way too much to give us lesser things

What if your blessings come through raindrops
What if your healing comes through tears
What if the thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise

We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt your goodness
We doubt your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
And all the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe

When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win we know
The pain reminds this heart that this is not
This is not our home
It's not our home

What if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if the thousand sleepless nights are what it takes to know You're near
What if my greatest disappointment
Or this aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can't satisfy
What if trials of this life, the rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise

Blessings to all!

The Gift and Pleasure of Wonder

Where do you most experience the pleasure of wonder?

Does a few stolen, furtive, and sacred moments with a beloved soul friend present you with this gift?

Or, does a cup of coffee in your favorite Parisian cafe elicit sweet memories and moments of wonder?

Does the experience of immersing yourself in a treasured book take you places you never dreamed of, and where you become lost in your imagination?

Right before my surgery, a dear friend came and visited me. She is not someone I get to spend a lot of time with. But it does not matter. The connection is deep...

Over cups of tea, we shared secrets of the heart and and soul, and she presented me with a series of books she dearly treasures and loves -The No. 1 Ladies Detective Agency - by Alexander McCall. She thought it was time for me to befriend these wonderful and gracious characters she has come to know during my time of recovery.

I have to tell you, my friend is very wise. I would never have voluntarily chosen to read these books, but I am touched by their beauty, and their simplicity, their morality, and the childlike wonder they have elicited in me. My friend knew it was the right time for me to make these characters' acquaintance.

And so, many hours now slowly pass me by as I delve deeply into the ten tomes I have in my possession...

This afternoon, I decided to venture forth to my neighborhood Border's which is closing to see if I could complete the series. I was amazed at the throngs of people carrying fistfuls of books all over the place, and the lines were longer than the ones I have seen at Christmas time.

While I did not find the remaining two volumes to this series, I was suddenly and overwhelmingly, very saddened. I knew, that I was witnessing the demise of an era. As I picked up books gently, and smelled them, and felt them in my hands, each one unique in its particular texture, I realized that future generations would no longer have the advantage or experience of curling up in a corner to lose themselves in the vast realm of wonder that lies hidden in very book, in the same way I had. All of a sudden, I regretted unloading every book I had ever given away or donated.

It was in some ways, like attending a wake or a funeral...

Sure, people will continue to read electronic books, but there is something that is just not the same. Somehow, reading Rumi, or favorite poets online is not quite like the ability to listen to pages rustle, carefully turning them, or the delicious experience of falling asleep with a book on one's lap during a winter evening.

Of course, there are plenty of sources and experiences of wonder to be had. For me, one of the most important ones is transmuting right before my eyes as I ripen into middle age.

What are the primary sources of wonder for you? This is worth contemplating...

And so, I leave you with this poem...

Primary Wonder

Days pass when I forget the mystery.
Problems insoluble and problems offering
their own ignored solutions
jostle for my attention, they crowd its antechamber
along with a host of diversions, my courtiers, wearing
their colored clothes; cap and bells.
And then
once more the quiet mystery
is present to me, the throng's clamor
recedes: the mystery
that there is anything, anything at all,
let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,
rather than void: and that, O Lord,
Creator, Hallowed One, You still,
hour by hour sustain it.

~ Denise Levertov

All Shall Be Well

"All shall be well.
And all shall be well.
And all manner of things
shall be well!"
~ Julian of Norwich

This wonderful saying by Julian of Norwich has been buzzing around in my brain this last week. A dear friend often quotes it to me, and did so before my surgery, and in its aftermath as well...

Many years ago, in 1988, I traveled to Norwich, England, to sit in the cell of Dame Juliana, as she is often referred to. We actually, do not know "Julian's" real name. All we know is that she was an anchoress, and was literally walled in, almost as if buried alive, in the Church of St. Julian.

Unfortunately, the original church was destroyed during World War II. But it has been reconstructed, and I enjoyed the time I spent in Julian's sacred space.

In the 14th century, an era nearly as tumultuous as our own, Julian had a series of visions which she called her "showings." These were written down, and her writings are regarded as the first writings of any kind, recorded by a woman. Hence, she is known as the "First English Woman of Letters," and until recently, her manuscript was housed in the British Museum. When I was in London last fall, I had requested to see them, but they had found a new home in the British Library.

Years ago, when I sat in Julian's cell, I felt her presence, and practically "heard" her whisper: "All shall be well" in my ear. And since then, at certain times of need, she gently gives me this reminder, either through her writings, or the voice of a friend.

And so, all is well, as I slowly make my way back to the land of the living and reflect deeply on the experience I just had. With so many wonderful souls sending healing energy and loving thoughts and prayers, I am doing remarkably well.

When I visited Norwich all those many years ago, I bought a key chain with this famous saying at the Cathedral of Norwich. Unfortunately, I lost it a few years later. But with the dawn of the internet in the early 90's, I was able to send a message to the cathedral and inquire about replacing my lost key chain. Several weeks later, a new one arrived, sent to me as a gift, and to this day, it is always with me.

Truly, all shall be well. And all manner of things always shall be.

This, I believe...

The River Speaks Once Again

Those of you who have read this blog over the years already know, that over the course of a couple of years, not so long ago, I found myself in transition and deep depression, and I went down to the river to sit, meditate, and pray, and eventually to paddle in it. Over the course of that time, the river taught me many lessons, until it no longer needed to do so.

This morning, I arose early, and was back on the Potomac River paddling, for what would perhaps be, the last time until the fall. Normally at this time, the hydrilla are growing quite wildly and overtaking and choking the river. Yet, for some reason, they have not made a noticeable appearance thus far.

The river was as calm as it could possibly be. There was not a ripple or wave, or discernible current of any kind. I pushed off the boat launch area in "Grace," my trusty kayak, and paddled effortlessly to the Maryland side. Halfway into my journey across, a motorboat cruised by, and I soon found myself tossed about by the waves. The initial calmness of the river reflected the state of my heart and soul at the moment. The waves were symbolic of impending surgery tomorrow, and how I would momentarily be under the weather, but very quickly find myself on the other side of things.

Once I arrived at the riverbank on the other side of the broad expanse of this river, I simply floated for a while. Then I noticed a blue heron very slowly and gracefully making his way up the riverbank, his beautiful legs moving delicately and deliberately. I followed him very quietly for a while in my kayak. He seemed oblivious to me. Eventually, he decided to become airborne, circling around me, and then took flight high above, making his way downstream. I watched him, until he disappeared.

Shortly after that, another motorboat cruised closer toward the Virginia riverbank, also going downstream.

At that moment, I instantaneously realized, that both the blue heron and the boat were inviting me and directing me to pursue a new direction in my life - and to try a new and different way. In all the years I have paddled on this river, I have never gone downstream. The currents become progressively stronger, eventually leading to Class 5 rapids in Great Falls. I am truly a ways off from there, but still, I have avoided going in that general direction.

Today, I have been overwhelmed by the well wishes of so many, and it has been interesting to see how so many close friends have said to me, that they really feel that I will be stepping into a new life once this "event" is behind me. So, I am looking forward to it.

The river spoke to me once again today, after such a very long time, and it was so comforting to hear its voice once again...

I have been reflecting a lot on change, and the song "Turn! Turn! Turn!" from the 60's has been playing over and over again in my head. To everything there is a season, and now a different one is bidding me to take a different path.

I will be taking a short break here, but know dear reader, that I am grateful to you for walking this journey with me!

The Song in Your Heart

We all have a song in our hearts...

What is yours?

Each one of us moves to a different drum...

Each one of us dances to a unique rhythm...

Yesterday, I wrote about a homily I heard on Sunday based on the the Parable from the Gospel of Matthew on the "Sower and the Seed."

The homilist told a wonderful story based on a YouTube video clip where a guy finds a stethoscope on the ground and proceeds to place it on all sorts of objects, and a unique song pertaining to the object in question bursts in his ear. For example, when he places the stethoscope on a light pole, he hears the song "Lean On Me." At the very end, after the guy in the clip seems to have exhausted all kinds of objects, he puts the instrument over his heart.

What do you suppose he hears?

Almost immediately, the "Hallelujah" from Handel's Messiah bursts all over the place. It is such a magnificent piece, that King George II arose from his seat when he heard the chorus. Since then, the tradition of standing during this piece has continued.

What song most exemplifies who you are and defines your soul?

And which one would make you stand, and dance, bursting with love and infinite grace? What experience in life would make you do this? Hopefully more than one song, situation, or person would profoundly move your depths into such self-expression...

St. Irenaeus, an early church theologian once wrote, "The glory of God is a man [or woman] fully alive."

May your body and soul be moved to dance to the unique song in your heart which is nothing more, and nothing less, than the calling of the Beloved Divine, however you envision Him, "Her," or "It" to be. It does not matter...

For the YouTube Video "Stethoscope," go to the following link:
Stethoscope

What Takes Root in the Heart

What takes root in your heart?

What do you feed?

What grows like a weed and festers in your soul?

What do you give your attention to? And what nourishes you?

What arises magnificently within, and touches and even profoundly transforms others?

This morning, I took my mother to church. She is visiting me, and will be a great help during my surgery and subsequent convalescence later this week. It was a long mass at St. John Neumann, in Reston, VA, which included the baptism of three children, and the farewell homily of a resident priest.

The homily was based on one of my favorite scripture passages, the parable of the sower and his seeds (Matthew 13: 1-23). For those who are unfamiliar with this reading, the passage recounts a story of a sower whose seeds fell on a ground where they were eaten by birds, on a shallow surface, where the nascent shoots became scorched because they had no roots, among the thorns, where the sprouts were strangled, and upon good soil, where the seeds laid down deep roots and flourished.

This reading is a metaphor for what takes root in our hearts. It reminds me of the well known Cherokee story, that is often retold. A grandfather tells this story to his grandson:

"My son, the battle is between two 'wolves' inside us all. One is Evil; it is anger, envy, jealousy, sorrow, regret, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, inferiority, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is Good; It is joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, humility, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.

The young grandson thought about this for a minute or two and then asked his grandfather. .... "Which wolf wins?"

The old Cherokee replied simply... "The one you feed."

I was profoundly moved by the reading today, and the homily as well, which was one of the best I have heard in years. The homilist was passionate, eloquent, and radiated a deep sense of joy that permeated every word he spoke. He spoke of how we know when the seeds of God's word have taken root in our hearts and how it affects who we become, what we do, and how we impact the lives of others. He also noted, that we never truly know how deeply we might touch others we encounter. Finally, he thanked the community for the lessons they had taught him about what to feed and cultivate in his own heart.

The bulletin offered these words by Rev. Michael S. Murray, OSFS, and also referenced the words of St Francis de Sales as a commentary on the day's Gospel:

"Clearly, while we must take responsibility for our growth in devotion - that is, nourish the seeds of God's love in us and encourage the same in others - we must do it patiently and with a mind to do God's will for us, lest our efforts become an exercise in self-will, self-delusion or self-absorption. Francis de Sales offers this advice: 'Pursue your aims gently and quietly... By what you say and do you must gently sow seeds that will encourage others... In this way, especially if you pray about it, too, you will do more good than you would in any other way...'

The seeds of Gods love that fall on good ground - in us, in others - will in the long run, yield a fruitful harvest. In the short run, we must nurture them slowly, patiently and carefully..."

What have you sown in your own heart?

Have you listened to God's words and promptings, and messages?

Have you tried to live your life as fully and completely as you can?

It is never too late to tend the garden of your soul. Plant the things you want to bear fruit and pull out the weeds, so that only what is worthwhile will take root.

Do not waste a moment! Do it now!

Grace Can Happen at Any Time

"Grace comes out of nowhere.
It can happen at any time,
any place."
~ Amma

This morning, I arose early and made my way to darshan with Amma, or Ammachi, as she is also known, because she happened to be in my neck of the woods, literally. Just about ten minutes away!

I got there early, to secure a good spot, and while I had to wait two hours for the start of darshan, I had received my hug an hour later.

The word "darshan" literally means sight, or visions of the Divine, which we, in turn receive, with devotion and reverence.

I first saw Amma in the year 2003, I believe. I went with some yoga friends from that time, including one who was in remission from lymphoma. The experience was incredible for me. I remember feeling like a bolt of electricity had run through me, and I could hardly walk afterward. This time, the experience was more subtle, and the sea of humanity was almost overwhelming for an introvert. Still, it was amazing to be in a place where everyone was smiling and so devoted, and it was good to run into some of my current friends and teachers as well!

While I waited in line, I listened to the woman behind me, carrying a baby that was only months old, recount her difficulty in becoming pregnant. She flew to see Amma, and when she received her hug, she asked to be blessed with a child. A year later, her son was born on exactly the day of the first anniversary of this blessing!

I watched this woman and her family approach Amma, who held and covered the little baby boy over and over again with her kisses. It was truly a moving scene.

I have now had darshan twice with Amma, and twice with Mother Meera. They are totally diametrically opposed experiences. Amma's darshan is noisy - there is a lot of chanting and talking, and when Amma hugs you, she chants into your ear. Mother Meera's darshan is in complete silence. You could hear a pin drop. And when she looks into your eyes, you feel that you have never been known or seen as completely as you are in that moment. Looking into her eyes, is like looking into the Eye of Eternity.

I have been blessed to have been able to have a glimpse of the Divine in so many ways in my life. Through Hindu saints, the Dalai Lama (who is also in town this week), previous Popes, and of course, the many saintly individuals who will never be publicly recognized, such as my grandmother. It doesn't matter. God is present everywhere, if one has the eyes to see, and the ears to hear!

And here are some uplifting and inspirational quotes from Amma to enjoy:

"Let us strive to reach a state in which we are able to see all beings on earth as part of our own Self. Amma

Real love is the complete absence of any negative feeling towards anyone. Amma

Whatever may be your offering, what pleases God is the attitude of your heart. Amma

In the presence of a great Master, the closed bud of your heart opens effortlessly. Amma

Love and unity and the very foundation of our existence. Amma

Think of everyone as your own Self, or see everyone as God and serve Him. Amma

Pray for the peace and welfare of one and all in this world. Amma

A true smile is something that originates in the heart. Amma

God's grace is the sunlight; it shines on all without discrimination. Amma

A truly spiritual person lives for the Truth and breathes for love. Amma

We should take every action as our worship. Amma

We should be able to experience God's presence everywhere. Amma

Love one another without expectations. Then there is no need to go anywhere in search of heaven. Amma

When you see life and all that life brings you as a precious gift, you will be able to say yest to everything." Amma

Gardener of My Soul

As I watered my plants and waited for a dear soul friend to come visit me this morning, I thought of the many different ways in which we garden...

Sometimes we garden in our yards...

Sometimes we tend the garden of other people's hearts... This friend I awaited, has done this for me many times throughout the last few years...

But sometimes we are gardeners to our own souls...We tug and pull out the weeds of what no longer serves us, and create room for our dreams to take root and for our souls to grow...

Over cups of tea, my friend and I shared experiences from our meditation and yoga practices, which we do from time to time. I described an ability to plug into bliss very deeply in my sitting practice, but conversely mourned all I had lost in my yoga practice, lamenting that in many ways, I felt like a raw beginner.

She wisely noted, that it did not matter - for it shed light on what was ultimately important - the essence of the practice - and the poses that were now elusive disclosed what is truly essential and what is not... And this, coming from someone whose own practice has always been the embodiment of her deep connection to the Divine... She too, has had to let go of much in her life, only to gain much richer gifts in return...

We spoke of my impending surgery as a turning point of sorts, and my dear friend very much believes it will make all the difference in my life. And whether or not I am able to see this very clearly right now, I do believe her, because she has always channeled insights from the Divine for me...

My friend is a master gardener, and we exchanged gifts. I gave her a few books of meditations on gardening as a spiritual practice. And she gave me books to nourish the garden of my soul, during recovery, in addition to a card, with gardening motifs, and this quote from one of her favorite authors:

"Help us to be
Ever faithful gardeners
of the Spirit,
Who knows that without darkness
Nothing comes to birth,
And without light
Nothing flowers."
~ May Sarton

I rose on this first day of July, stepping into a new month; it is also a day of a partial solar eclipse, symbolic of change and inviting transformation, and after meditation, I went out into my garden to water. I fed my thirsty plants, as I also seek to satiate my own thirsty soul, waiting to change, and patiently waiting for subsequent recovery as well...

I will garden my soul now, and give thanks for the gifts that I have received in my life, and the presence of this friend who reminded me to give voice to my gratitude, and to know that hope and joy are equally present in the garden of my life...

"Kind hearts are the gardens,
Kind thoughts are the roots,
Kind words are the flowers,
Kind deeds are the fruits.
Take care of your garden
And keep out the weeds.
Fill it with sunshine,
Kind words and kind deeds."
~ Henry Wadsworth Longfellow