For Noah (Thanksgiving 2023. A Summary of our conversation)

I watch my thoughts just come and go.

Some are dark and some are light.

There will be a day when I will know

I can control which come into sight.

I long for the time when I can push away

the dark thoughts I don’t want to see,

and pick the ones that joyfully display

that I am not a prisoner of my history.

I am the see-r behind the views,

the artist of the sculpture of my mind,

the poet who can pen the blues

or create soaring anthems to the Divine.

I am the meaning-destroyer with the chisel of cynicism sharp

and the meaning-maker with loving hands that shape the clay.

I determine what becomes a work or art,

a beautiful thought, or shards to be thrown away.

There will be a day when dark thoughts may come anew.

I will just push them away.

They are but ghosts who hide the view

of the joy and beauty around me today.

I will never know the answers to all the mysteries.

But I can laugh with the universe, I can dance with irony,

I can enjoy the absurd, and play with possibilities.

I can remind myself–I am more than my biology.

A Tribute April 21, 2023

Sometimes Life has an unforeseen way

of turning things upside down.

Joy and peace can be lost in that fray,

and despite all efforts, we can’t find solid ground.

The dreams of how life was supposed to be

can be dashed on the rocks of sadness and rage.

We are left to cope with a new reality,

and accept there is no turning back that page.

It takes resilience to continue on.

It takes courage to avoid despair’s pit.

It takes strength to welcome each dawn.

It takes an incredible kind of grit.

It also takes love to overcome despair.

It takes laughter to cope with what must be faced.

It takes patience to knit the frazzled sleave of care.

It takes an incredible kind of grace.

You have that courage and strength, laughter and love,

all part of what you bring to that space.

And persistence, resilience, and a bit of help from Above–

you are the epitome of Grit and Grace–

On Being and Becoming

Moms are there at the beginning–when we are coming into “Being”.
And because of their love and care
we discover that we can go on Being, even when they are not there.
The best moms know that in order for us to practice becoming,
they must practice leaving
in a way that does not foster grieving.

So through the years they dance with us the dance called “Being and Becoming”/
That exquisite balance of being there for us, while giving us the space
to know both our grounding in love and our need to create our own face.

And then, she leaves….
We struggle to understand her “Being through having been,” and “not Being”.
The universe weeps with us
until we remember with joy that
because of her, we go on Being,Because of her,
we go on Becoming…
(and in the eyes of faith
so does she)

Thoughts on Browning’s Poem

When Browning wrote “Grow old along with me the best is yet to be.”

He failed to understand the true nature of Time’s hourglass of sand.

All we ever have is “Now.”

Each moment joined in what our memories allow.

Our lives are built on the past’s parade.

The future is but a dream–self made.

Each moment includes our whole life’s span.

Waiting for “best is yet to be” should never be the plan.

Awaken to joy each and every day,

Love one another, come what may.

Grow in wisdom, be above the frey,

Enjoy the only forever we have always had–

right now–today.

AGAPE IN THE TIME OF COVID

In this war between the “angel of death” and the soldiers of life,

our angels of compassion reach out to those most vulnerable.

They place themselves between the enemy and those whose battles with time

have left them bent, whose battles with illness have left them scarred.

While the horseman gallops toward us,

our angels of mercy reach out daily–

They carry not a scale, a sword, or bow–

only a small bottle of disinfectant or hand wipe against the enemy–

their only shield a pair of gloves or mask.

They carry not the banners of the horsemen.

They carry the banner of Agape, unconditional care that transcends and persists regardless of circumstance.

It is the banner with the heart of compassion, service and giving,

which defeats the strongest of enemies in the great arc of history.

Let us never forget that “they also serve” who only bend, clean, touch, comfort, and provide their presence in the time of Covid.


The Third Face of God

I have been struggling with a dilemma for many years. The more my consciousness evolved, the less likely traditional theology and religion were satisfying and meaningful. The symbols of my faith tradition lost their efficacy and potency. The hymns sung as part of the devotional practice of my church did not inspire spiritual awareness. Prayer became less important than meditative practice. I could not reconcile the faith of my childhood with the developing post modern view found in revelations of Integral spirituality, with its inclusion of Eastern religions and meditative practice.

I found myself in the position of many in the modern and post-modern era who would announce that they were “spiritual” but not religious.

I initially concluded that these two world views, these two theologies, were incompatible. Evolution of consciousness transcends devotional religion, I decided. What we may call the Eastern traditions, which include the teachings of Buddhism and Hinduism, are problematical to traditional Western theologies.

Western traditions separate divinity from the material secular world. The two interact, but are never the same. One need only remember the fresco which adorns the Sistine Chapel to understand this point of view. Michelangelo portrays God (the Divine essence) reaching out to, but not quite touching Adam (the human representative of the physical world). We can be in relationship with God, but we can never be Gods. Jesus is the only entity who is both divine and human.

The Eastern traditions by contrast, do not separate the material world from divinity. Everything is divine. Thus, in meditative practice, one comes to the awareness of one’s own divinity. This was considered Christian heresy in the early Church. In part, one may conclude that this was a necessary reaction to some of the religious traditions of the West in which gods and humans were combined, or the reaction to the Roman Emperors who declared that they were divine.

It was through my study of Ken Wilber’s Integral Spirituality, that I began the process of reconciling this dilemma in my own spiritual practice. Wilber integrates these theological traditions in his descriptions of the three faces of God. It may make more sense to translate “face” as “experience of,” or “manifestation of.” The three faces of God are infinite God; intimate god; and inner god.

Infinite God is the God described in the Old and New Testaments who is high and lifted up. This is the God of Moses burning bush whose very name cannot be spoken without potential consequences. This is the God who reveals Himself through Jesus, but who can never be fully known. This is the God who is worshipped through religious behaviors of devotion. This is the God of our historical tradition who demands obedience, and to whom we bring offerings, hymns, and commitment to a lifestyle. This is the God I feared as a youngster in the conservative church in which I was raised. This is the God I learned to love when my mother took me out of the sermons of hell and brimstone, and introduced me to a different understanding in a different church.

In that new church of my adolescent years, I came to experience the second face of God: Intimate God. This was the “face” of God revealed through Jesus of Nazareth. I began to develop a prayer life in which it was very clear that I was in a relationship with my God. I did things, not out of fear of punishment, but out of love for someone who first loved me, and sacrificed for my forgiveness. I did not want to disappoint this God. This relationship propelled me into a decision to dedicate my life to full time Christian service and ministry.

It was in theological school, some years later that I first began to experience confusion and doubt. Perhaps it was part of systematic theology studies, or looking at the New Testament in a more scientific way to determine its origins. My faith sustained me through most of my doubts well into midlife. However, during this time I also discovered transpersonal psychology (which later became part of Integral psychology) and Eastern traditions. And then, through meditative practice, I began to work actively on my evolution of consciousness.

This brought me ultimately to understand and experience the third Face of God: Inner God. This was the experience of my own divinity, as part of everything which is divine.

This is referred to as “no boundary” or “One Taste” in Integral spirituality. The separation of reality into spiritual and material; sacred and secular, falls away. The problem is that my church had not evolved along with me. My minister still talked only about the first two faces of God. The devotional practices of my church lost their meaning because the Third Face of God was missing on Sunday mornings. When asked by close friends “What are you, religiously speaking”? I could only react by saying “I guess I am a Christian/Buddhist.” This was an unsatisfying answer to me. And I missed my Church. I was not looking for a Sangha instead.

Paul Smith, in his book “Integral Christianity” helped me to move through this period of confusion. I began to understand that I needed to overcome the dichotomy between my childhood and adolescent experience of God, and the evolution of my consciousness into the awareness of my own divinity. It did not have to be either/or. It could be both/and. I could participate in the religious practices of my church which are oriented to the First and Second Faces of God, while still recognizing that there was more. It was the evolution from fear, to love, to self awareness. I didn’t have to exclude devotional practice, I could include it with meditative practice.

In Eastern traditions this is the journey of the bodhisattva, the enlightened being who returns to the world with “bliss bestowing hands.” It is an awe inspiring journey. I have much work to do. Recognizing that I am one of the “Faces of God” and perhaps the only face of God some people will ever see, fills me with a sense of great responsibility. I fall so short of putting my own beliefs/awareness/evolution of consciousness into practice. It makes me want to say:”Oh well, I’m only human.”

 

APOCOLYPTIC VAUDEVILLE

The title of this production at the American Repertory Theater in Cambridge, MA, portrays a strange juxtaposition. Yet, these two concepts have been linked for a very long time.

The essence of the connection is that humans have responded to overwhelming catastrophe, or pending doom through the ages, by engaging in a variety of defense mechanisms: diverting attention; denial; ignoring; and in some cases–song and dance. This reaction is familiar when you consider it. When nothing seems to be able to be done, rather than slopping into paralysis, or depression, or running away while screaming, it may seem better to just become cavalier. Something about “thumbing one’s nose at it.” Whistling past the graveyard. Pretending to be brave. Reminds me of the movie in which Gene
Wilder and Richard Prior portray characters forced to spend some time in a jail filled with the worst of the worst criminals. They walk through the bad guys portraying themselves to be “bad” –“we bad, we bad” they chant, announcing that they are “street wise” thugs, in hopes that they will not be attacked.

This is the basis of the musical performed at the A.R.T.

The theater is intimate. The staging is minimal. The music is provided by a solo pianist who remains hidden to the audience. Not Broadway…Off Broadway… Avant-garde.

The audience learns from the Playbill that the performance is based on the aftermath of the powerful and damaging storm that struck the east coast of the US, hurricane Sandy. It portends the coming era of climate change with the potential for even more devastation. This topic of climate change has been featured at the A.R.T. through a partnership with the Harvard Center for the Environment.

The musical begins. Flashing lights, loud claps of thunder. The sound of high winds and things breaking.

The curtain opens to a ragamuffin individual who is dragging/rowing a life raft to a small bit of dry land. He is dressed in the traditional vaudevillian outfit of baggy pants and bowler hat. Just as he begins to settle into this respite by spreading a colorful picnic blanket on the ground, he is surprised by the appearance of yet another, older, more ragged individual who has taken shelter in a large box. The action is pantomime, but it is clear that the older guy is some sort of miscreant, grumpy old man, depressed, forlorn, and wishing to be alone.

They are the last two people on earth.

There is a halting, tentative interaction between them. The older one looks and acts depressed. The younger is more playful, engaging, outgoing, as he attempts to coax the older one into a song and dance.

Perhaps these are the two options for all in these circumstances: depression and hopelessness or playfulness and spunk.

The younger picks up two canes from the life raft. He gives one to his scowling companion and they break into song. There are some thirty songs, interspersed with dance in this production.

The songs lead to funny moments, poignant moments, and sad moments.

Some are familiar and modern. Others are taken from a different era, reminiscent of the roaring twenties of vaudeville. Others are from Broadway or popular music.

They all seem to have the theme of responding to troubled times with a “devil may care” attitude.

The first song is an old one from Irving Berlin: “The weather is frightening, The thunder and lightning. Seem to be having their way. But as far as I am concerned, It’s a lovely day. Isn’t this a lovely day to be caught in the rain?”

Bohemian Rhapsody (Queen): “Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide. No escape from reality…Anyway the wind blows, doesn’t really matter to me.”

(Kingston Trio): “They’re rioting in Africa—da da da da da da. There’s strife in Iran. The whole world is festering with unhappy souls…”

(Eddie Lawrence) Questions are posed of ridiculous mishaps followed by “Is that what’s bothering you brother? Then lift your head up high and take a walk in the sun. Never give up, Never give up…that ship!”

And so it goes for 90 minutes without a break.

I think of other connections in which history is filled with references to song and catastrophe. Nero playing while Rome burns. Musicians aboard the Titanic. Jazz at funerals in New Orleans.

Do all musicians struggle with this?

I am left wondering if I have gotten the real meaning of the performance. It is not depressing, though it would seem to be. Perhaps it is a tribute to the unsinkable Molly Brown in all of us. Or perhaps it points out clearly that we can’t agree upon the consequences of human activity on global warming and the potential disaster that awaits. So we sing and dance about what is real and what is fantasy.

The final song is sung as the last two humans paddle through the stormy seas in their life boat, to an uncertain destination, and inevitable death:

“Row, row, row your boat, Gently down the stream, Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, Life is but a dream.”

It was Voltaire, the 17th Century French philosopher who summed it all up: “Life is a shipwreck…. Those in the lifeboats must not forget to sing.”

Thankfulness

How amazing to be alive in another time of struggle and opportunity.

It is always thus,

No matter when.

How thankful we should be for our incredible human brain and our capacity for consciousness.

Evolution paid us forward with incredible capacity for good or ill. It is time to pay this debt as best we can.

We cannot fix the troubled world we see, but we can give and love those whom we already know, and share our awakening with them.

So show up, wake up, grow up for all sentient beings past, present, and future.

And God, thank you for another chance,

for another day, season, year, and the wonder of our beautiful family gathered here.

Another chance to be with bliss bestowing hands.

Incredible gifts, amazing grace awaits

We bow in deep gratitude and thanksgiving.

 

History of Me

Some call it luck.
Some see the “Hand of God”.
Others call it “Fate.”
And there is “hard work” too.
No matter
It is all of these,
blending, merging, pushing against, and working with.
I am blessed by all these–
their manifestation leaving behind
the history of me.

THE WINTERS OF OUR DISCONTENTS

Clouds hide the platform on which the Inti Raymi is performed. It is the Festival of the Sun performed by the shaman priests of Macchu Picchu, high in the Andes mountains of Peru. The procession materializes out of the billowing clouds. Elaborate headdresses and flowing robes appear. The sound of the Peruvian flute wafts across the ridgetop. When the clouds dissipate, a breathtaking view emerges of distant valleys and rivers, some thousands of feet below, with mountain peaks beyond, framing the scene. It is amazing to think that people actually thrived here, clinging to the sides of the mountain ridge.

They have come to perform the ancient ritual to secure the sun in its flight from the heavens by attaching it to the large column of stone called the Intihuatana (in-tee-wha-tan-ya), the “hitching post of the sun.” In Inca mythology, this ceremony prevented the sun from disappearing altogether below the horizon on the shortest day of the year.

As we approach the shortest day of the year in our hemisphere, December 21st, I wonder if our culture also needs to perform rituals to make certain that the sun will return to us as well. Steeped in modernity, with my scientific understanding of the rotating wobble of our planet around the sun, I am reassured that the days will grow longer and the nights shorter as we progress through the calendar year towards summer.

We humans have developed a variety of festivals, holidays, rituals, and other celebrations, focused on this important day in the year. The Winter solstice is the day in which the sun appears, at noon, at its lowest altitude above the horizon. Neolithic archeological sites such as Stonehenge identify the interest our ancestors had in marking this day.

The following months, January through April, were known, up until modern times, as the famine months. Many did not make it through those tough times when food was scarce. Some archeologists suggest that many of the celebrations associated with this day, were the result of needing to cull the herds before this long season. Feeding livestock through the long winter months was not common. Thus fresh meat was available at this time. In addition, the fermenting wines and beers, prepared during the end of the summer harvest, would be ready to consume about this point in the year. A celebration of a successful year and a preparation for the winter to come, seems an appropriate mix.

We moderns have a mix of responses to this time of the year as well. There are certainly elements of celebration: “Tis the season to be jolly…”; office parties abound; New Year’s Eve is the occasion for revelry; and so on.

We have also designated this as a time of increasing concern, anxiety, and even depression: seasonal affective disorder; the holiday blues; dread of winter approaching.

These are our months of emotional famine. Shakespeare identified this, in Richard III, in his phrase the “winter of our discontent…” though he was referring to historical political events in British Royal history.

I suspect we need this mix of celebration and preparation. We do seem a bit heavy on the celebration part, to the detriment of preparation. Some additional attention to preparing for the winters of our discontents would be useful. This might include grearing up on information, strategies of coping, or mindsets to practice. In particular, we can focus on our connectedness to friends and family. This can be our version of the Intihuatana, the hitching post of the sun, to make certain that we will have the experience of our winter discontents “made summer” by maintaining these connections.

And so, as we celebrate this special time, let us also prepare by wrapping ourselves in the warmth of great friends and a loving family, to guard against the cold of whatever winters lie ahead.