My Friend, Acedia

Oh my, I’ve had quite a few days. After reading Christine’s reflection early in the week, I realized I’ve been caught up in a bout of acedia (i.e. lack of desire or initiative.) Rather than sinking into it or being curious, I grumbled and complained about not feeling good or getting anything done. This managed to only feed the overall sense of blah and keep me from (surprise surprise) feeling good or getting anything done.

This morning something began to shift as I decided to have a conversation with my companion. It went something like this:

Me: Hello, Acedia. What do you have to teach me?
Acedia: Patience, faith and the ability to sit in discomfort.
Me: Oh. But, I like things to happen quickly. I am a fearless warrior. I like to step in and heal things – quickly. (Oh geez, I sound arrogant. Somehow thinking I’m magical and believing I’m in control. My Ego is operating on high. )

Me: Hello, Acedia. What else have you got?
Acedia: I’m here to humble you. To let you taste that place of despair.
Me: Yuk, and?
Acedia: You haven’t been there in awhile, but you are not immune. All your tricks and magic won’t keep you from feeling pain and despair. It’s time to make peace with me and stop battling. Do you not see the risk? The more you battle, the stronger my hold becomes.
Me: Hmmm. Very interesting.

Then Acedia and I had a little conversation about the should’s. Beginning with the thought of “I should know better”. Having done tons of therapy, practicing as a therapist/life coach/spiritual director and overall being a pretty grounded and solid person, I have somehow convinced myself I shouldn't have bad days or make mistakes. (How realistic is that?!?!?). Thinking the thought of “I should know better”, I felt the weight of responsibility and the amount of EGO attached to it. It leaves me trying to do other people’s work for them AND messing around in God's business. It takes me totally away from the business of caring for myself. When I let go of the thought, "I should know better", I burst out laughing as I realized what a total mind-game that is... Geez Louise.

Using Byron Katie's technique of the Turnaround, my thought shifted something like this, and with it, the acedia lifted:

I shouldn't know better... Whew! I can only know what I know.

I do know better... I have everything I need and I can see it when I get out of my own way.

God knows best... I'm part of the Universe (God) and it takes all parts - the space - the light - the dark - the "mistakes" – the acedia – the fearlessness – the glory - ALL of it – to create a whole human being.

It appears I need to keep learning these lessons over and over again. Ain’t life grand?

Robin's Song

I awoke feeling a little restless today. Kind of excited and a bit overwhelmed. That’s what sometimes happens when life presents so many full possibilities – ranging from new creative adventures to curling up with my Lenten readings.

While sitting at my desk just now, I caught sight of a glorious robin sitting at the tip top of a barren tree. She takes my breath away as I hear her song across the rumble of a school bus and the music playing gently in the background of my room. Her wings flap and I see the brilliant orange of her chest. Ahhh. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. I am here now.

A friend wrote me last week about a robin that’s been banging on her window whenever she tries to sleep or read in her room. My friend was not quite as enamored with her robin and was considering homicide (due to sleep deprivation). I encouraged her to not shoot the bird as it might be a sign of new growth in her life.

When I revisited Animal Speak this morning these words for robin showed up:

“The song of the robin is a cheery, rolling trill. Part of its purpose is to help the robin establish territory… This is very significant when robin shows up in your life… it reflects a need to sing your own song forth if you wish for new growth. Any confrontations or hindrances are more show than actual threats, so go forward.”

Oh my, there’s the call of the fierce warrior yet again. Breathe. One. Two. Three. Four. I am here now.

Where are you being called to sing your own song? Can you offer it with a cheery rolling, trill like the robin?

© robin's song 3.29.11

Lenten Pilgrimage

Somehow the season of Lent allows me to sink more deeply into listening, waiting and letting go. Delightful themes and synchronistic opportunities have presented themselves abundantly and the journey has barely begun. As I mentioned in my last post, I had the beautiful opportunity of physically going on pilgrimage to the desert last fall. In conjunction with that trip, my fabulous guide invited me to write a short article for an upcoming website. It was indeed a delight when Christine @ Abbey of the Arts then invited the Lenten pilgrims to answer this question:

How have great pilgrimages and journeys brought you to a new insight about your daily life?

Today, I am pleased to share the words I had already penned for my Sapira friend.

Pilgrimage calls us to find that which is essential. We learn through preparation and packing for the journey. Along the way, we explore what nourishes us through feast of eyes, body and soul. Necessity changes shape as normal routines drift away. Paring down and moving toward simplicity, a sense timelessness envelops those who dare to step into the unknown.

Having participated in three intentional journeys (two of them with Sapira), I have come to know more of myself, and the world as a whole, through these travels. To fully enter a pilgrimage is to take off your shoes and stand on Holy ground. My toes have curled in the chilling loam of Ireland and danced across the swirling sands of the Sinai. My heart has opened by stepping into the gentle rhythms of the pilgrim’s clock. Pilgrimage is like walking an ancient labyrinth – each step intentional with no straight pathway – moving toward center and then returning back into the world with heart and soul forever changed.

My blessings envelop each of you who stops by this place. My hope is you will move more deeply toward your own center during this Lenten season and return back into the world with your heart and soul forever changed.

Peace.

Quiet Voice of Wisdom

The season of Lent begins today with Ash Wednesday. Words like surrender, sabbath, and begin again greet me with the journey. Step by step I inquire where I'm going. Today happens to be a day with a bit more spaciousness surrounding me. While I have lots to do, I don't have any "official" meetings scheduled so I am able to slow down and listen more deeply. For some reason a great scene from the book Eat, Pray, Love keeps coming to my mind. (btw - the scene is in the movie, but doesn't do the book justice) In the passage, Elizabeth Gilbert has her first intentional meeting with God. As she waits for wisdom in a time of crisis, she hears the simple words, "Go back to bed, Liz." This scene is so profound for me, because that is how I often experience the still small voice of wisdom.

Today's quiet has offered direction moment by moment: read this, write that, shower now, rest, fix dinner, sit, rest, and so on. When asked a question offered by Abbey of the Arts, these words arose:

What is the grace I am seeking this Holy season?

Surrender to the voices of Sabbath.
Let the timelessness was over you.
Trust. Laugh. Love more.
Rest and restore.

What is your still small voice inviting today? What grace are you seeking this season?