Living Here Life Divine

“Long ago in China, there lived a monk who perched in a certain tree every day to meditate. No matter if the tree swayed in fierce winds and rain, the monk settled himself comfortably, high up in the tree. Because of this, he was nicknamed “Birdsnest” by the village folk nearby.

Many of the villagers passed beneath the monk while hunting or while gathering wood in the forest. And, after a time, they grew used to the monk. Some began to stop and talk of their concerns with Birdsnest. They liked the things he had to say, and soon Birdsnest became known for his kind and thoughtful words.

After more years, the monk’s wise reputation spread throughout the province. Visitors from distant cities hiked to the remote forest for advice. Even the governor of the province decided that he too would like to visit Birdsnest to discuss matters of importance. So, one spring morning, the governor set off to find him. After traveling several days, he at last located Birdsnest’s tree in the dense forest. The monk sat calmly, high in the topmost branches, enjoying the warmth and the bird songs of spring.

Looking up, the governor shouted, ‘ Birdsnest! I am governor of this province and I have come a great distance to speak with you. I have a most important question.” The governor waited for a reply but heard only the pleasant sound of the leaves stirring in the breeze. The governor continued, “ This is my question. Tell me Birdsnest, what is it that all the wise ones have taught? Can you tell me the most important thing that the Buddha ever said?”  There was a long silence- just the soft rustle of the leaves again.

Finally the monk called down from the tree. “This is your answer governor. Don’t do bad things. Always do good things. That’s what all the Buddhas taught.

But the governor thought this answer far too simple to have walked two days for! Irritated and annoyed, the governor stammered, “ Don’t do bad things; always do good things? I knew that when I was three years old monk!!

Looking down at the governor, Birdsnest replied with a wry smile. “Yes, the three year old knows it, but the eighty year old still finds it very difficult to do!”

(source unknown)


A Traditional Buddhist Blessing

May every creature abound in well-being and peace.
May every living being, weak or strong, the long and the small
The short and the medium-sized, the mean and the great
May every living being, seen or unseen, those dwelling far off,
Those near- by, those already born, those waiting to be born
May all attain inward peace.

Let no one deceive another
Let no one despise another in any situation
Let no one, from antipathy or hatred, wish evil to anyone at all.
Just as a mother, with her own life, protects her only son from hurt
So within yourself foster a limitless concern for every living creature.

Display a heart of boundless love for all the world
In all its height and depth and broad extent
Love unrestrained, without hate or enmity.
Then as you stand or walk, sit or lie, until overcome by drowsiness
Devote your mind entirely to this, it is known as living here life divine. 

Friday Food for Thought

"Happiness is the consequence of personal effort. You fight for it, strive for it, insist upon it, and sometimes even travel around the world looking for it. You have to participate relentlessly in the manifestations of your own blessings. And once you have achieved a state of happiness, you must never become lax about maintaining it. You must make a mighty effort to keep swimming upward into that happiness forever, to stay afloat on top of it."

-- Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love)

“The most exquisite paradox…. as soon as you give it all up you can have it all. As long as you want power, you can’t have it. The minute you don’t want power, you’ll have more than you ever dreamed possible.”

— Ram Dass

"A power struggle collapses when you withdraw your energy from it.
Power struggles become uninteresting to you when you change your intention from winning to learning about yourself."
—Gary Zukav & Linda Francis (The Heart of the Soul)

Telling Our Stories

In my home office I have several clay figurines of a seated woman (or bear-like creature) with many smaller childlike figures attached to her lap and legs. She has her mouth open in a circular shape to show that she is speaking.

The first storyteller dolls were called “singing mothers” but soon the storytellers were created as men and women. The seated figure always has an open mouth. The small figures all over her are the listeners enthralled by her words, attentively honoring the teller and the tale she tells. The sculpture is intimate and conveys warmth and acceptance and the artists of storyteller dolls give shape to the sentiment that our stories are important parts of each of us.

Until recently I worked in an urban church and had the opportunity to answer the door when strangers were looking for help. One of the important parts of getting to know the people in a short amount of time was, of course, hearing their story. Even if some of what they told me was not completely true, I am convinced that the ways in which they unraveled their need to me was important to them and many truths were revealed in the telling. For people who have only what is on their backs, the stories they tell are precious possessions indeed. Many times I could not help them except to give them the dignity of listening to their story.

Each of us comes with our own story - looking for a place to tell it. I am convinced that is why many of us seek out faith communities. For those of us without such a community, we search for other places to tell our stories and to hear the stories of others. In this era where more and more people are attending “church” less and less, alternative communities rise up to take the place of some of the functions of the church of old….social networking sites, blogging, coffee shops, book discussion groups in libraries and bookstores, mastermind groups, therapy groups, self help groups……      No matter the venue, as the stories are told, they become part of the larger story of those in the group. In making places for all to tell their stories, we create community and connection.

Great Spirit that speaks in words and in wonder,

we all are searching for places to belong.

We know that the world is lonely

when we have no one to listen to the yearnings of our souls.

May we open our hearts and ears

to the stories of those traveling on the great road of life with us.

Give us ears of patience and welcome as listeners

that we may be treated with hospitality when it is our turn to speak.

As we welcome the words of others and share what is in our hearts

may we remember that we are creating a story that will change the world.

Such love does the sky now pour,

that whenever I stand in a field,

I have to wring out the light when I get home.

Francis of Assisi

All has been consecrated.

The creatures in the forest know this,

the earth does, the seas do, the clouds know

as does the heart full of love.

Strange that a priest would rob us of this knowledge

and then empower himself with the ability

to make holy what already was.

St. Catherine of Siena

The sky gave me its heart

because it knew mine was not large enough to care

for the earth the way it did.

Why is it we think of God so much?

Why is there so much talk about love?

When an animal is wounded no one has to tell it,

"You need to heal"

so naturally it will nurse itself the best it can.

My eye kept telling me,

"Something is missing from all I see."

So it went in search of a cure.

The cure for me was God's beauty,

the remedy--- for me was to love.

Rabia of Basra

A Prayer for Protection

 

Spirit of Love and Life, 

Surround us and fill us with the flame of your Love and Wisdom,

That it may purify, illumine and guide us in all things.

May its spiritual fire form a garment of living flame around us

and protect us from all harm.

May it radiate to every heart, consuming all evil and encouraging all good.

May we be filled with peace within ourselves,

and may we let it spread throughout our world.

In the name of all that is good and holy and true.

Amen and Blessed Be

(adapted by C. Wallace from the prayers of Dr. & Mrs. F. Homer Curtiss, 1934)

Tattoos and Jesus

I was talking with a new acquaintance recently about tattoos. Actually, we were sharing stories about tattoos because that is the interesting thing about a tattoo- there is always a story to go with it.  She was telling me that her oldest son has 2 tattoos. One is on his upper arm below the shoulder. It is a cross whose lower vertical end becomes a blade. It symbolizes his love for Jesus and the teaching of Hebrews 4:12:  For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.  His other tattoo is just below his ribs on the left side of his abdomen and is the Hebrew word for brothers. 2 other young men who are like brothers to him also have the same tattoo in the same place.

Her son told her that the brothers tattoo on his side was much more painful to get than the cross tattoo on his arm and then went on to expound on the awesome moral of the story: Isn’t that just how it is with life? It is easy to say you are a follower of Jesus. The hard, and even sometimes painful part, comes when you try to live it out by being a brother.

His observations remind me of the story of a young woman who receives a note from Jesus telling her that tomorrow he will be coming to visit her. That night she frantically cleans her house and makes preparations for a delicious meal. Then she goes to bed, hardly able to sleep because she is so excited that Jesus will be at her house tomorrow- sitting on her furniture and eating her good cooking. She even fantasizes a little about her value and just how much she must be loved if Jesus is actually going to come to her house.

The next day she gets everything ready and dresses in her finest and waits.

In the middle of the morning she hears a knock on her door. She flings open the door, ready to shout “Welcome,” but instead of Jesus, there is a young man on her step whose car has just quit right in front of her house and he needs to call a tow truck. May he use her phone?  He looks dirty and sweaty and a little suspicious to her. Absolutely not she tells him- I am expecting an important guest. Then she closes the door in his face.

A little shaken by such a strange happening, she returns to the sitting room to wait for her visitor. After lunch there is another knock on her door. She opens it with great enthusiasm and a huge smile. Standing there is a woman who says she lives two doors down the street. She has locked herself out of her house and has called her son to come over with the spare key but she really needs to go to the bathroom. May I use yours while I wait for my son?  She is a very large woman and she is carrying several bags. Who knows what she will do in the bathroom, out of sight?  No, that is not possible. I am expecting an important guest at any moment. You’ll have to use the bathroom at the gas station. It’s just on the street behind us and up one block. Then she closes the door.

Late in the day, just before supper time, she hears another knock at the door. She runs to open it thinking this must be Jesus. Standing in front of her is a young man with brown skin who has big kind eyes and is wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Disappointed again she begins to speak, intending to tell him to go away when he interrupts her and asks if he can come in. No you may not come in, she says in a loud voice. I am expecting an important guest and I don’t have time for whatever it is you want. Instead of walking away he looks at her and asks who she is expecting. Well, even though it is none of your business, I am expecting Jesus, she says in her loud angry voice. What do you think about that?  The young man looks at her and just smiles. As she stands there looking at him, his appearance changes and standing before her is a man who looks just like what she expected Jesus to look like. Do you recognize me now?  he says.  When she looks at him again he is now the young brown skinned man in jeans and a t-shirt.

But I don’t understand, she tells Jesus. What does this mean? 

The young brown skinned man looks at her with compassionate eyes and says: I have been here to visit you two times today already but you turned me away. I asked to use your phone and I asked to use your bathroom. Both times you were too busy to help. The woman looks at him with a sad face, tears beginning to form in her eyes. But I was waiting for you and they were a nuisance, she tells Jesus.

I have no feet or hands but yours now, Jesus tells her.  Keep your eyes open for opportunities to bring love into the world. In seeing each person as me, I will always be with you. And always remember-serving me is sometimes a nuisance….but in the end, always a joy.

hey, cooperate

Sometimes the Universe intervenes in such a way that we are forced to change our plans. The thoughts I planned to post here in this space today will not cooperate...it is a technical thing...so now I go to plan B. I planned to blog on Tattoos and Jesus....you'll have to wait to read that entry on another day when I can get the text type color to cooperate.

While I was trying to make what I wanted to post today happen, I called a friend for help....she knows how to do everything....so I was hopeful.  She tried to help but what she did still didn't work for me so I am giving up on my intended words for today but....that got me to thinking about the blessings that come into our lives and remembering to be grateful for those blessings....like my renaissance woman friend and all of the other people who make my life the glory that it is....that led me to remember the following quote. So....may today be a good day for you, my readers, and may we all take the time to be intentionally grateful for all that we have in our lives.....even when the Universe doesn't cooperate. 

"Our lives are filled with ordinary moments when the hidden beauty of life breaks into our everyday awareness like an unbidden shaft of light. It is a brush with the sacred, a near occasion of grace. Too often we are blind to these moments. We are busy with our daily obligations and too occupied with our comings and goings to surround our hearts with the quiet that is necessary to hear life's softer songs."  --- Kent Nerburn