Guided

I’m being guided.

I am one who cannot help but listen and notice. Perhaps it has always been this way. It seems so.

I read many books at once, all the time – fiction and non-fiction – and hold and match and play with what is painted by the writers. I note color and depth and texture in creation, and my own dialogue with the beauty or repulsion (last week’s encounter with a snake!). I am nudged by song lyrics, by images, art, by moments that come and go like quicksilver. Scripture and beautifully crafted honest prayer and prose attract me, annoy me, challenge me, feed me. I put pen to blank pages in my own journal and watch letters and words unravel, as they chronicle inner and outer worlds, visible and invisible – understood and forever unknown. I have conversations with this one, that one, another — joy, grief, everydayness, anxiety, hope, care for others, compassion, suffering, spirituality, relationship, the wonder and wear of life’s abundance. Memories of place and people echo impressions and messages too. The softness of CoCo’s fur, the taste of refreshing breezes, the heat of summer-coming days on my skin, the ache of muscles after mowing, the tiredness that comes sooner as years pass — all these tactile and physical items are memos too that come in.

And then there are the frustrations or fears. The car won’t start. The direction is unclear. The power has gone out (the electric company, or perhaps in other ways?!). I seem to be in a familiar circle. The sandpaper types of encounters and experiences that rub in ways uncomfortable or painful, small or large – these say ‘present and accounted for’ too. Annoyances or traumas – we all have them. These, as well, I notice and listen to, attempting to surround them with space and compassion to honor their murmurings on the way – to see what they too will teach.

I find in all this data coming in, flowing over and through me, guidance. There are themes. Sometimes they are embarrassingly repeated, like the fifth time in an hour a teacher has directed the students’ attention to the same concept or step on the way. Sometimes their presence is sensed, but they are still foggily obtuse – something is there, but what? And do I want to know? Or am I desperate in my longing to be embraced by whatever the new truth is, or for its healing or holding?

Whatever – I cannot NOT notice. Awareness, for me, is not something I strive for.

The experience is comforting. It is sometimes annoying, even unnerving. It is often helpful to me, helpful to others. I find that life and the God who wants us to have it abundantly are both unerringly consistent at speaking, nudging, initiating, inviting – sometimes looking to provide grounding, sometimes growth – and that these messages and dynamics are encountered within and without. And I must breathe into it all, relax into it, be gentle as the guidance comes and not seek to grasp or analyze or manipulate. It holds its own wisdom.

At this time of year when my garden SHOULD be up and running (it’s not yet), I am conscious again of seeds. In the smallest seed in our hand that looks like a fleck of dust or thread or dirt… inside of it is a dynamism and life that is all that it is now, and all that it will be. The mightiest of trees, the most fruitful of fruit or vegetable plant or shrub/tree — the yellowness of the marigold, the magenta of the snapdragon, the multicolor patterns of the pansies – all of what it IS is somehow in that little tiny speck we call a seed. And it too receives guidance and nudges and urgings and discomfort and wiggling breakthroughs in its life.

So, as I am inundated with data points which flow constantly in words, images, experiences, emotions, encounters; I take heart. I don’t need to be concerned with the ‘meaning’ or the ‘outcome’. Life is not about arriving at the last step in a geometric proof. It is color and texture and art, and I am the subject, not the artist.

I am being guided. And moving ever into and toward my truest self, already present, as unknown to me as the fullness is to the seed, and yet as truly already here in all its/my fullness. My job is to be and to become, gently and tenderly, surrounded by the compassion and the environment that Wisdom has knitted about me. Thanks be to God.

How are you experiencing guidance right now?

Lighten Up!

I’m an unabashed dog person, and always will be.  CoCo, my present companion, loves in the morning to jump up next to me when I first sit up on the side of the bed, jump down and frantically run into the other room (about 3 feet out of the door), turn tail and run back and jump up and attack me, and do it all again, repeatedly.  Each time she wants to get pet and assured, and loves it when I actively join in by riling her up further!  She delights in getting so excited she’s barking and falling over her own feet in her jumps and runs back and forth, and in her increasingly acrobatic landings by my side, and her occasional leaps then onto my shoulders or into my arms before jumping down once more.  And I love the silliness, and the breathless commitment to PLAY!  She’s no doubt telling me to hurry up, but the running and circling and jumping and petting and playing sequences are their own end as well.  They are joy and energy incarnate in fur and feet.     

I am re-reading these days (again) Margaret Guenther’s classic on the art of spiritual direction, Holy Listening.  I was fortunate to meet with her a couple of times two decades ago while I was in training and formation as a spiritual director, and then two or three more times in the 10 years following.   I count those conversations simply gifts.  In the book I’m revisiting she discusses the happy alignment of pray and play, and as I read it tonight I heard an urging to stay light and mobile in the life of faith.  And for some reason CoCo’s daily ritual enactments with light fleet feet came to mind!  And her joy and wiggling butt and wagging tail too.  All of which make me laugh! 

There is an unfortunate tendency sometimes evident in seeking to “move forward” in the spiritual life to be way too serious about the matter.  As if we could wrest our own journey out of God’s hands – who is, after all, the artist of our very being who knows what our lives and beloved identities are as their creator.  As if we believe we might do a much better job as the architects of our growth! How arrogant!   Or perhaps some message we believe we have been given by family, friends or faith community gives us the idea that we are obligated to work at our perfection and measureable growth in virtue in such a way that we must be diligent and dutious unto death, as it all lands on us and is solely our responsibility, subject to our plan, and based on our achievement.  Playful encounter with God who knows us and our journeys way better than we do is not on the ‘to do’ list; and we seem to believe we are charged with managing the scope and sequence of our own growth.  Margaret’s writing includes a lovely quote from The Cloud of Unknowing (and I’ve added the caps for verbal emphasis as you read!):

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, then, be careful and do not imprudently strain yourself at this work.  Rely more on joyful enthusiasm than on sheer brute force….Do not impatiently snatch at grace like a greedy greyhound suffering from starvation.” 

So, what’s my message to you and me as I muse tonight?  It’s not exactly Hakuna Metata.  We are responsible – there is work – but it is to be very attentive to receive and be guided, not so much construct, the life and charism and ways we are given. The Spirit is at work! We are to respond to the gifts as we discover them, and be faithful to them.  So, it is a Hey YOU!!! Remember GRACE!!!  DON’T minimize PLAY and JOY!  REMEMBER that YOUR/MY IDENTITY and YOUR/MY JOURNEY and STORY IS mostly being worked out in MYSTERY!  And that the Creator knows us and guides us, each and all. 

And, for the love of God, remember God is God. And that we wake up in each of our days together with him, and we can just approach each day’s beginnings as my dear fur pup does – with enthusiasm, perhaps with a flurry of faith and feet and joyous (even raucous?!) greeting of each other and laughter! Our part is then to live with God, to see what the day brings us, what we might receive, and how we may respond while so lovingly and playfully care-fully companioned.  No straining on our part.  No brute force wresting meaning or worth.  No archeological digging.  No great impatience and anxiety to perform.  Just a simple walking into the day with the Lord who loves us and lives this day with us.  Relax in God’s love for us.  And walk forward, unknowing, but who cares if we know?! Confident!