Most of us are familiar with the inner criticism and gnawing
self-doubt we hear when we want to take the next step in our
work or life. Rather than staying stymied we can observe our
thoughts, let them go and return to the truth of who we really
are. William Wordsworth reminds us of our one true home: Our
birth is but a sleep and a forgetting; The soul that rises with
us, our life?s star, Hath had elsewhere its setting, And cometh
from afar: Not in entire forgetfulness, And not in utter
nakedness, But trailing clouds of glory do we come From God, who
is our home:? Returning home to our true self, in each moment,
is our lifework. We get sidetracked thinking the promotion, job,
or finishing that e-book/workshop/project is what?s important.
Certainly, accomplishing some tasks is necessary however, the
state of our being as we go about doing the task is more
important than getting the task done. Walk in the
Graveyard Returning to our breath - our thread to God -
reconnects us to our true home. Likewise, taking a break from
our daily world and going for a walk in a graveyard can reground
our soul. Seriously ? try it! Like I did early last Sunday
morning after I dropped my husband off at work. I was feeling
pressured to get work done as my husband was working and I
wasn?t. Also, I was feeling resentful I ?had to? wash the car,
do the shopping, figure out the best e-book compiler, buy it and
begin learning the software and writing that e-book. Worse yet,
I felt martyred doing this all on Sunday. Normally, although I?m
not much of a church-goer, I like to keep the Sabbath sacred
nourishing myself and my spirituality. As the ?to-do? litany
continued spoiling my morning I heard my small, still voice
whisper, ?Walk in the graveyard.? Nearly driving by the
graveyard, my decision was quick. My ?busy? energy responded
with, ?Ok. Go to the graveyard and get your walk over with.?
With reflective hindsight, the complete ?do/achieve? focus of
that energy appalled me. My daily walks are intrinsic to my
emotional and spiritual well-being ? not solely a body exercise
to be done! At first I felt empty on this sunlit morning as I
marched the graveyard perimeter for ?maximum exercise.? Then,
following another intuitive impulse I broke off from the
?exercise strategy? and strayed toward a gravestone that has
always haunted me. There lay buried a young man, only twenty
seven years of age, music notes adorning his tombstone and the
words, ?Even so, - it is well with my soul.? Ah, in the face of
such sorrow and loss, ?Even so, - it is well with my soul.? Ah?
such comforting words. The next tombstone read, ??here are those
called to God for His purpose?? and in that moment I knew each
of us were called to God. With my hand on my heart and tears on
my cheeks I now walked slowly, my militant march now a
sacrilege. Then, again, I stopped. Listen! Listen! Gay, busy
birds chirping everywhere! Had they just begun? Or had I missed
hearing them before? The vanilla fragrance from the looming
Ponderosa pines filled my senses. Keeping the Sabbath
With my hand still upon my heart, I was fully present, fully
alive amidst the quiet dead. Suddenly there was nothing to do,
no pressing tasks, no time pressures, no directing voice, only
this moment of fullness, delight, softness of the soul. The
Sabbath had come. I entered into the Sabbath. I was home. Can we
keep this Sabbath every day, every moment? How much richer might
our communications, work, relationships, and actions be if we
did our best to work from this God-centered energy rather than
the harsh, pressing demands of fear? In the following passage
from ?Circle of Stones, Woman?s Journey to Herself? Judith Duerk
gives a roadmap for returning to our God which I believe holds
true for men as well as woman. ?Woman grounds herself in being
as she claims her time, moment by moment, to be within
it, as if she could touch it and hold it in her hand? as she
claims her time to be, not forcing into an hour more than
that hour can hold, but listening, with a sense of balance and
restraint, that each task be quietly fulfilled with pause before
and after? an interlude for her to reflect, to be present to
herself.? Being present to our Self, our God, moment by moment
is our lifework.
About the author:
Teresa Proudlove is the publisher/editor of
|
