Listen to this post:
Abundance is not about receiving, but, rather giving, I am learning. Late into the night, I awoke continuing a recent pattern. Instead of dreading the experience, I decided to befriend it as a wise healer has suggested. Amazingly, when I did, my breath began to deepen and push out the swirling energy lodged in my chest.
I'd had a reiki session earlier in the day and the practitioner did a lot of sweeping. "I just felt like you had so much on you that needed to be [re]moved. For awhile your exhales will be deeper than your inhales as you shed, but watch for the moment when that changes and your inhales become longer. That's when you will begin to take in something like a wind sweeping through."
So the long exhales took over in the night, sweeping the swirling up, not down where I had been focusing them. Up into my throat. A voice suggested I work on giving rather than receiving and I felt a much-needed shift in my body and psyche.
I am slowly experiencing the process of the shedding exhales and, meanwhile, contemplating giving. My morning swim was all about breathing and noticing. Paying attention to how much better it felt to release [give]. In the sauna. which I have affectionately named my prayer box, the concept of giving again embraced me, replacing the fear, withholding and scarcity mode in which I have been operating. It feels wonderful: freeing, opening and my path, not a dark detour.
About two weeks ago I had a revelation about my vocation and my faith community that was big. Too big, I now realize. I have been discerning it – wisely, for once – and see that inspiration was the whole picture, not the manageable steps I need to move forward. Those involve merely giving for now with trust (via a little nudging) that if I can give for the sheer joy of it, abundance will follow through grace and no action or thought of my own.
I am to revel in my freedom of giving, casting off the shackles of seeking to receive. One of the tools I hold is the practice of gratitude. When I look at all that I have been bequeathed, it bolsters my courage to trust I will have the energy to give because it emanates not from my broken body by from the Source.
Perhaps 2:30 a.m. is my prime prayer and meditation time. Who'd have thought?
• What is my experience of giving?
• Of receiving?
• How has that affected my perception of abundance?
• How and when do I experience abundance?
• How do I practice gratitude?
hoarding is,
well, unhealthy
it closes us off,
builds walls and isolation
grows fear, anxiety and separation
we are meant to share,
give and, by doing so,
receive
in community
through community
and for community
then, we are truly
nourished
even in our solitude
Showing posts with label breathing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label breathing. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Breathing into the golden bubble
Listen to this post:
Remember the golden bubble of God's love I wrote about last post? The one I had briefly and rarely experienced, yet was so confirming of her strong, pure love. Well, I had another epiphany while swimming this morning.
Sometimes I think the gentle rhythmic body movement of stroking, breathing and gliding empties a lot of irrelevant thoughts, making room for deeper ones. This morning, in that meditative place, I realized that the golden bubble is always there, protecting and surrounding us. Can you imagine? It boggles my mind. Always there, whether we recognize it or not.
Most people would describe me as positive, hopeful and optimistic. And, for most of my life, I have been a glass-is-half-full girl. And yet living with a chronic disease, though by no means live-threatening, has slowly cracked that optimism, which makes me forget where I came from and the gifts I have been given. And that God's love is constant, plentiful and powerful.
In my forgetfulness and unawarenness, I waste too much precious time and energy fighting for what I already have been given. I lapse into worry, anxiety, fear and shallow breathing. I become shallow. I just read that the latin root of the word spiritual means breath or to blow. When I breathe deeply, plumbing myself, I retrieve a piece of that feeling of love and remember again. Remember who I am, how I am, that I am loved, and love.
Just now I am recalling a sweet revelation I had while falling asleep last night in that liminal place between consciousness and coma. I had fallen asleep earlier in response to some new antibiotics for an infection I am fighting, then awoke and tried to return. But the thoughts worked their way in and I couldn't find the peaceful place in which I succomb. Money entered my brain and, of course, delayed the onset of anything helpful. Then my thoughts softened, almost dreamlike, and something told me my frustration about not earning money in the present moment is because I am trapped in the eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth mentality.
It seems that I am always "paying" for something though never being paid. But if I can look beyond the almightly dollar and into the exchange with depth and gratitude, I can see that I receive far more than repayment in cash. That things are working within me that don't even relate to materialism. That my current gifts are great and cannot be purchased; only earned with spaciousness to struggle, be myself, work through my weaknesses, learn to trust and open to experience the golden bubble and know it is always in place ... whether I am aware of it or not.
The key for me to remain openly aware, I firmly believe, is a regular prayer/meditation practice that, somehow, always falls by the wayside come summer. Today, I did so after my first cup of coffee, returning to a yogic meditation book from years ago. I started with the practice of ahimsa, non-violence, and worked with using it on myself, then others and tapping places within myself of acceptance and forgiveness. The accompanying meditation suggested visualizing an open, pink lotus in your heart, shooting rays of love, first through your own body, then out into the world. It made me see that when I can be gentle with myself, including drawing boundaries, then perhaps, I won't need the shield of fibromyalgia to let me know those lines so loudly. I ended with these words on my heart:
•When can I feel the divine golden bubble protecting me?
• What spiritual practice enhances that awareness in me?
• How can I release negative thoughts or painful patterns?
• Do I remember to breath deeply often enough?
• How do I practice ahimsa?
Remember the golden bubble of God's love I wrote about last post? The one I had briefly and rarely experienced, yet was so confirming of her strong, pure love. Well, I had another epiphany while swimming this morning.
Sometimes I think the gentle rhythmic body movement of stroking, breathing and gliding empties a lot of irrelevant thoughts, making room for deeper ones. This morning, in that meditative place, I realized that the golden bubble is always there, protecting and surrounding us. Can you imagine? It boggles my mind. Always there, whether we recognize it or not.
Most people would describe me as positive, hopeful and optimistic. And, for most of my life, I have been a glass-is-half-full girl. And yet living with a chronic disease, though by no means live-threatening, has slowly cracked that optimism, which makes me forget where I came from and the gifts I have been given. And that God's love is constant, plentiful and powerful.
In my forgetfulness and unawarenness, I waste too much precious time and energy fighting for what I already have been given. I lapse into worry, anxiety, fear and shallow breathing. I become shallow. I just read that the latin root of the word spiritual means breath or to blow. When I breathe deeply, plumbing myself, I retrieve a piece of that feeling of love and remember again. Remember who I am, how I am, that I am loved, and love.
Just now I am recalling a sweet revelation I had while falling asleep last night in that liminal place between consciousness and coma. I had fallen asleep earlier in response to some new antibiotics for an infection I am fighting, then awoke and tried to return. But the thoughts worked their way in and I couldn't find the peaceful place in which I succomb. Money entered my brain and, of course, delayed the onset of anything helpful. Then my thoughts softened, almost dreamlike, and something told me my frustration about not earning money in the present moment is because I am trapped in the eye-for-an-eye, tooth-for-a-tooth mentality.
It seems that I am always "paying" for something though never being paid. But if I can look beyond the almightly dollar and into the exchange with depth and gratitude, I can see that I receive far more than repayment in cash. That things are working within me that don't even relate to materialism. That my current gifts are great and cannot be purchased; only earned with spaciousness to struggle, be myself, work through my weaknesses, learn to trust and open to experience the golden bubble and know it is always in place ... whether I am aware of it or not.
The key for me to remain openly aware, I firmly believe, is a regular prayer/meditation practice that, somehow, always falls by the wayside come summer. Today, I did so after my first cup of coffee, returning to a yogic meditation book from years ago. I started with the practice of ahimsa, non-violence, and worked with using it on myself, then others and tapping places within myself of acceptance and forgiveness. The accompanying meditation suggested visualizing an open, pink lotus in your heart, shooting rays of love, first through your own body, then out into the world. It made me see that when I can be gentle with myself, including drawing boundaries, then perhaps, I won't need the shield of fibromyalgia to let me know those lines so loudly. I ended with these words on my heart:
I am loved.
I am love.
I am.
•When can I feel the divine golden bubble protecting me?
• What spiritual practice enhances that awareness in me?
• How can I release negative thoughts or painful patterns?
• Do I remember to breath deeply often enough?
• How do I practice ahimsa?
Monday, December 13, 2010
Desperately seeking stillness
This time of year is always hardest to find stillness. And that seems so counter to what the season is supposed to be: remembrance, gratitude, humility, compassion and reflection to name a few.
I feel winter is MY season; partly because I was born in January, partly because I like to hunker down, be indoors, snug and introspective and also because the briskness clears my eyes, mind and soul. I layer up to go out and yet my cheeks tingle with the rouge of cold, my hair sparkles, my eyes twinkle and seem capable of holding more. I feel very bodily alive.
But the madness of invitations, obligations, inordinate gift-giving, incessant distraction and over expectation rear their ugly heads. I am learning not to give into the cultural flow. For me, it's a matter of survival and not getting swallowed up in the stream of tradition racheted up and whacked out.
I do participate, but in a reduced manner. I have embraced the Quaker idea that every day is sacred, so one day, such as Christmas or Easter, should be no more sacred than another. Christmas is merely a date on the calendar someone, sometime declared as a Holy Day, a holiday. There aren't actual, historical ties to the date. In fact, I read the organized church chose December to celebrate Jesus' birth because there were already so many solstice celebrations and it seemed an easy entree´ into those traditions.
My feelings about this time of year were reflected back to me yesterday in my Quaker meeting's (church) business session, which is called worship with attention to business. Once again, we were discussing how our committee structure was draining the congregation. Some groups are functioning well, but half are not, although energy has swelled informally around certain areas where needs are being met. One suggestion was to exchange the layers of committees that require clerks, reporting and regular meetings for informal task forces. The word task really spoke to me of obligation, expectation and legacy, although I know that is not what its proponents meant. Then the idea surfaced (the ways solutions do when a group is worshipfully conducting business and concepts arise that could not in any other way, with Spirit guiding and those present prayerfully listening and discerning) that the struggling committees take a brief hiatus and we see where the energy arises.
That so reminds me of the insight I was provided a little over a year ago during a retreat on spiritual restlessness: "If you can't do it with love, then don't do it."
For me, that's also applicable this time of year. When I cave into the wave of shoulds, my hearts shrinks to Grinch size. When I hold my own and do what I am called to out of love, it expands. One way of encouraging that expansion is to find regular stillness anytime of year. The simplest is just to follow the breath. When we get worked up and in lockdown mode, we breath so shallowly. Deep, expanding breaths are bodily and spiritually cleansing. Adding a simple prayer (thank you or help) to that breath nudges us deeper, connecting us, grounding us, reminding us who we really are.
• What on my to-do list can I eliminate?
• What am I called to this time of year out of love?
• How do I respond to the seasonal change and do I recognize my body and spirit's natural rhythm?
• What reminder can I create to expand, not contract, my heart?
• In what ways do I pay attention to my breath?
breathe deep
forcing the air
into the abdomen,
down toward
the toes
and slowly
let go
of the breath and
anything else
that's draining,
constricting
and not me
repeat until
I know who I am
again
I feel winter is MY season; partly because I was born in January, partly because I like to hunker down, be indoors, snug and introspective and also because the briskness clears my eyes, mind and soul. I layer up to go out and yet my cheeks tingle with the rouge of cold, my hair sparkles, my eyes twinkle and seem capable of holding more. I feel very bodily alive.
But the madness of invitations, obligations, inordinate gift-giving, incessant distraction and over expectation rear their ugly heads. I am learning not to give into the cultural flow. For me, it's a matter of survival and not getting swallowed up in the stream of tradition racheted up and whacked out.
I do participate, but in a reduced manner. I have embraced the Quaker idea that every day is sacred, so one day, such as Christmas or Easter, should be no more sacred than another. Christmas is merely a date on the calendar someone, sometime declared as a Holy Day, a holiday. There aren't actual, historical ties to the date. In fact, I read the organized church chose December to celebrate Jesus' birth because there were already so many solstice celebrations and it seemed an easy entree´ into those traditions.
My feelings about this time of year were reflected back to me yesterday in my Quaker meeting's (church) business session, which is called worship with attention to business. Once again, we were discussing how our committee structure was draining the congregation. Some groups are functioning well, but half are not, although energy has swelled informally around certain areas where needs are being met. One suggestion was to exchange the layers of committees that require clerks, reporting and regular meetings for informal task forces. The word task really spoke to me of obligation, expectation and legacy, although I know that is not what its proponents meant. Then the idea surfaced (the ways solutions do when a group is worshipfully conducting business and concepts arise that could not in any other way, with Spirit guiding and those present prayerfully listening and discerning) that the struggling committees take a brief hiatus and we see where the energy arises.
That so reminds me of the insight I was provided a little over a year ago during a retreat on spiritual restlessness: "If you can't do it with love, then don't do it."
For me, that's also applicable this time of year. When I cave into the wave of shoulds, my hearts shrinks to Grinch size. When I hold my own and do what I am called to out of love, it expands. One way of encouraging that expansion is to find regular stillness anytime of year. The simplest is just to follow the breath. When we get worked up and in lockdown mode, we breath so shallowly. Deep, expanding breaths are bodily and spiritually cleansing. Adding a simple prayer (thank you or help) to that breath nudges us deeper, connecting us, grounding us, reminding us who we really are.
• What on my to-do list can I eliminate?
• What am I called to this time of year out of love?
• How do I respond to the seasonal change and do I recognize my body and spirit's natural rhythm?
• What reminder can I create to expand, not contract, my heart?
• In what ways do I pay attention to my breath?
breathe deep
forcing the air
into the abdomen,
down toward
the toes
and slowly
let go
of the breath and
anything else
that's draining,
constricting
and not me
repeat until
I know who I am
again
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)