Relief or Cure?

I have found it important to have structure during this time of being a "caterfly" - this time of being and becoming.  I'm weaving more  (very good medicine).  I'm trying to coax my body into becoming stronger (not a great lover of exercise, but am learning to tolerate it).  And I'm keeping a set time for prayer every morning and evening (this I love).  In the evening I read a devotional/scripture, and sit with God - often saying nothing.  Then I close with intercessions, and expressions of gratitude.  In the morning I read a devotional/scripture, and sit with God - often saying nothing.   I also set my intentions for the day (forcing myself to write them out so I can reflect on them in a deliberate way), offer thanks and intercessions, and offer the day to God.

Some days pass without any great or small "aha" moments.  But they are rare.  Usually, something attracts my attention.  Sometimes it comes from the devotional; sometimes from scripture.  Sometimes while sitting in silence a thought or memory will present itself in that "pay attention!" way that inspirited things often do.  I have come to discover that the very act of sitting each day, no matter what, morning and night, is the most important part of this process of discipline and prayer.

Some "aha" moments pass quickly.  Others stay, put down roots, and generate a whole new chapter of this transformative journey.  July 24th brought one of those put down roots moments, as I read the following from my favorite devotional and felt my heart and mind click into sync:  

The ancients tell the story of the distressed person who came to the Holy One for help.  "Do you really want a cure?" the Holy One asked.  "If I did not, would I bother to come to you?" the disciple answered.  "Oh yes," the master said.  "Most people do."  And the disciple said, incredulously, "But what for then?"  And the Holy One answered, "Well, not for a cure.  That's painful.  They come for relief."  (Joan Chittister, The Rule of Benedict: A Spirituality for the 21st Century, p 203).

Relief or cure?   Which do I seek?  

Which do you seek?

Kim

Spiral Staircases and Elevators

I am a thinker.  I like to ponder ideas, issues and events, weigh options, and formulate responses.  It is my nature to enter into an idea or issue and take its spiral staircase deeper (and deeper) into fresh or refreshed understandings and relationships.  I think this is why I am drawn to the sayings of Jesus, because they invite me to go ever deeper in my awareness and understanding, and into relationship with the Rabbi.

Tibetan Buddhists know the power of short sayings to focus and train the mind, and deepen understanding.  In fact, they have devoted an entire practice to this approach, called Lojong.  A reasonably ancient practice, it involves systematic meditation on 59 slogans (sayings), with the goal being a greater understanding of one's perspective (thoughts, attitudes and motivations), which then can lead to freedom from the thought patterns that lead to suffering (and I'm all for freedom from suffering)!

At first glance, some of the slogans appear very basic and self explanatory - Slogan 13, for example, is "Be grateful to everyone."  Nice.  But I notice that when I try to put it into practice, the slogans have the same "bite" as the sayings of Jesus (everyone - really?).  Slogan 21 is problematic - "Always maintain only a joyful mind"  (always - only?).  Slogan 34 is definitely one to live by - "Don't transfer the ox's load to the cow - Take responsibility for yourself" (I am responsible for my life and my choices, which means no blame game - especially when it feels justified).  Slogan 42 is a challenge - "Whichever of the two occurs, be patient" (hmmm...I will sit with that one for some time, because I'm not entirely sure what it means).  And one of my least favorites is Slogan 49 - "Always meditate on whatever provokes resentment."  Ouch.

Thinking is good, and I celebrate this gift of reason and reflection!  But one trap for thinkers like me is that we tend to stay in this cognitive mode and spend lots of time running up and down the spiral staircase, and thereby ignore other forms of knowing that come not from mental aerobics, but from the intuitive heart space - a very powerful kind of knowing.  This knowing can feel more like an elevator than a seventy story spiral staircase descent/ascent.  Both are needed (both/and, not either/or), but when one is better practiced (thinking, in my case), it tends to become the default response in the system.

Yesterday a dear colleague presented me with a slogan that helped break through the spiral madness of analysis that traps my brain in a perpetual feedback loop, and immediately vented a great deal of personal suffering - elevating both my mood and perspective.  The saying she offered me contained only three words, but it simultaneously caused me to laugh,  cry,  and breathe deeply.  Thank you, dear colleague, for what is now my Slogan 60:

                                                           "Can't logic crazy."

Indeed!

Smiling,
Kim