I have just returned from a 10 day meditation retreat where I basically lived like a Buddhist nun for 10 days, including a vow of silence, vegetarian meals, and seated, immobile meditation for 10 hours a day.
I find my emotions more subdued than is normal for me. Perhaps it is partly due to the cold I avoided acquiring for the entire time I was in the Vipassana retreat, but finally caught up to me the day after I returned home. Time will tell if my former energetic mind will return. Though I have to say, I think I could get used to this calmer mind.
Before writing this post, I scanned through the most recent ones. It has not been a good year (or two!) for ponderings. I feel I could just delete them
all and start over. (I initially wrote "start again", but that phrase now brings a bit of a raw feeling to my emotions after hearing it repeatedly during the retreat).
That's all that I find to say that is real for now.
Tuesday, June 14, 2016
Tuesday, February 9, 2016
Midnight Musings
Do you ever have a feeling come over you like, everything around you is quiet and the thoughts in your head feel more real than anything has for months?
Here is the fruit of tonight's quiet ponder session. My ideas about God have been conglomerating over the years, a bit here and a piece there. This is my first attempt, really, to write anything down.
Believing in God is an inner search and an outward sharing. When I look for God, as I pray or ponder His words, I am looking within myself. I consider myself to be more than a physical construct. There is an essence to being human that is not simply a combination of the different aspects of flesh, bone, electric impulses, and other chemicals. The whole is more than the sum of its parts. I don’t know when that idea first originated, but I believe I understand what it means, as applied to a human being. That essence is what I call the Divine. God is Divine. I am His child, and just like I inherited my hair color from my mother, I have inherited divine personality traits from my Father in Heaven. When I seek to know God, I begin by seeking to know myself.
Here is the fruit of tonight's quiet ponder session. My ideas about God have been conglomerating over the years, a bit here and a piece there. This is my first attempt, really, to write anything down.
Believing in God is an inner search and an outward sharing. When I look for God, as I pray or ponder His words, I am looking within myself. I consider myself to be more than a physical construct. There is an essence to being human that is not simply a combination of the different aspects of flesh, bone, electric impulses, and other chemicals. The whole is more than the sum of its parts. I don’t know when that idea first originated, but I believe I understand what it means, as applied to a human being. That essence is what I call the Divine. God is Divine. I am His child, and just like I inherited my hair color from my mother, I have inherited divine personality traits from my Father in Heaven. When I seek to know God, I begin by seeking to know myself.
If seeking for God is inward, then the success at finding Him is measured outwardly. I feel either a sense of connection, or a sense of distance, as I interact with others. I define the connection to be the divine in others. When my ideas don't connect with others' ideas, I re-examine my ideas. The Divine is in the connection. So I ask, what is most important -- the ideas I've come to in the past, or finding harmony with those around me?
I believe that truth is big enough to allow endless variations on a simple idea. I often see my ideas as variations of what other people believe, even if those other people don't believe as I do. I can see the picture as a coherent whole, where others see discordant ideas.
And, in spite of all the ideas, it is how these others and I behave that determines the most real connection. If there is kindness, mutual respect of the other, and a bit of grace in letting slide the rough spots, then this is real. This is divine. This is God.
Sunday, November 15, 2015
Reversals
A thought on the past years' LGBTQI movement. I have been blessed to discuss the problems and solutions of the GLBTQI population with compassion, understanding, and acceptance.
Recent events have left me troubled, as I have witnessed the once-oppressed becoming the oppressors. In the past, gay men were shamed by society and church. They were told their behavior was wrong and evil and they were excluded (and worse) from participating in mainstream society.
Now, LGBTQI people have spoken out against their mistreatment. This is good. I celebrate this healing action.
What is troubling to me is that, when I (and my church), publicly announce that we will not accept GLBTQI behavior, the response is that they now shame us. We are now evil and unnatural, and they shun us.
While this may be a natural reaction, and justifiable, it is not productive. Instead of accepting our efforts to include and recognize legitimate complaints, they choose to do unto us what harm we have done to them. And so the cycle continues.
Recent events have left me troubled, as I have witnessed the once-oppressed becoming the oppressors. In the past, gay men were shamed by society and church. They were told their behavior was wrong and evil and they were excluded (and worse) from participating in mainstream society.
Now, LGBTQI people have spoken out against their mistreatment. This is good. I celebrate this healing action.
What is troubling to me is that, when I (and my church), publicly announce that we will not accept GLBTQI behavior, the response is that they now shame us. We are now evil and unnatural, and they shun us.
While this may be a natural reaction, and justifiable, it is not productive. Instead of accepting our efforts to include and recognize legitimate complaints, they choose to do unto us what harm we have done to them. And so the cycle continues.
Wednesday, August 26, 2015
Saturday, February 28, 2015
Ask and Ye Shall Receive
Juliette understands her world. Among the things that are pertinent to the world of a two year old, she is perfect in understanding the communication addressed to her (and probably much of what is not addressed to her.)
In the last two months she has started to communicate back to us. She uses whole sentences, though the individual words are less than clear, for the most part. Contextual clues make understanding quite simple. And Everyone in the family works with her on correct pronunciation by repeating her words and emphasizing the key sounds.
This morning she said something she has never communicated before. She comes to sleep in my bed every morning in the wee hours, and she regularly asks to breastfeed. The rule (when I am consciously aware of the situation) is that we don't breastfeed in the middle of the night.
So this morning, when I told her she could snuggle with me but we would not breastfeed, she cried, which is normal. And I repeated myself, which is normal.
But then, as her anguish seemed to be a bit more urgent than usual, she said, with her 2-year-old, marble-filled-mouth pronunciation, "I need the milk!!"
She has successfully learned stage one of "how to get mom to break the rules."
In the last two months she has started to communicate back to us. She uses whole sentences, though the individual words are less than clear, for the most part. Contextual clues make understanding quite simple. And Everyone in the family works with her on correct pronunciation by repeating her words and emphasizing the key sounds.
This morning she said something she has never communicated before. She comes to sleep in my bed every morning in the wee hours, and she regularly asks to breastfeed. The rule (when I am consciously aware of the situation) is that we don't breastfeed in the middle of the night.
So this morning, when I told her she could snuggle with me but we would not breastfeed, she cried, which is normal. And I repeated myself, which is normal.
But then, as her anguish seemed to be a bit more urgent than usual, she said, with her 2-year-old, marble-filled-mouth pronunciation, "I need the milk!!"
She has successfully learned stage one of "how to get mom to break the rules."
Thursday, February 26, 2015
The innocent eyes of a child
Today Keenan asked about skull anatomy. Looking at pictures on the Internet we saw the spinal cord connecting inside the skull. "What is that?" asked Keenan. We talked about how the brain sends messages to different body parts.
A little later we were looking at eye anatomy and saw the fibers connecting the eye and the brain. This sparked conversation about how eyes work-- light hits the eye and the brain turns the light into a picture.
"Does your brain send the pictures down the spinal cord?" asked Keenan. "Sort of," I answered. I am happy he understood the explanations. It is fun to see through the eyes of a child.
----------------------------------
Naomi asked me today how our stuffed tiger, Dinah, can come alive. "How can she talk? How did she travel around the world?" (Dinah was lost and "sent letters" to inform us of her whereabouts: Hawaii, China, back to the U.S.)
Before Dinah was lost, Jon would sometimes pick up Dinah and make her talk. He doesn't hide or anything -- just holds her, moves her limbs, and uses a funny voice. It is in no way deceptive. I do admit that sending letters was a bit deceptive. And, after all, the tiger was lost, and wrote a letter about where she would be, and the kids did find a tiger that looked just like Dinah in the spot the letter said she would be.
Naomi's confusion is understandable. On the one hand, I tell her that monsters aren't real and most of the movies we watch are pretend. She is smart, she trusts me. But it doesn't make sense in her mind how a stuffed animal can move and talk. Even when she can see her Papa moving the toy and talking for her, Naomi doesn't see the deception.
Naomi even asked Papa to "talk for Dinah" when she asked Dinah these questions ("How can you talk ?"and "How did you travel around the world?"
A little later we were looking at eye anatomy and saw the fibers connecting the eye and the brain. This sparked conversation about how eyes work-- light hits the eye and the brain turns the light into a picture.
"Does your brain send the pictures down the spinal cord?" asked Keenan. "Sort of," I answered. I am happy he understood the explanations. It is fun to see through the eyes of a child.
----------------------------------
Naomi asked me today how our stuffed tiger, Dinah, can come alive. "How can she talk? How did she travel around the world?" (Dinah was lost and "sent letters" to inform us of her whereabouts: Hawaii, China, back to the U.S.)
Before Dinah was lost, Jon would sometimes pick up Dinah and make her talk. He doesn't hide or anything -- just holds her, moves her limbs, and uses a funny voice. It is in no way deceptive. I do admit that sending letters was a bit deceptive. And, after all, the tiger was lost, and wrote a letter about where she would be, and the kids did find a tiger that looked just like Dinah in the spot the letter said she would be.
Naomi's confusion is understandable. On the one hand, I tell her that monsters aren't real and most of the movies we watch are pretend. She is smart, she trusts me. But it doesn't make sense in her mind how a stuffed animal can move and talk. Even when she can see her Papa moving the toy and talking for her, Naomi doesn't see the deception.
Naomi even asked Papa to "talk for Dinah" when she asked Dinah these questions ("How can you talk ?"and "How did you travel around the world?"
Tuesday, January 20, 2015
Housekeeping Disease
I have a problem. Whenever my home approaches "nearly acceptable" (which isn't the same as clean but it's as close as I'm going to get at this stage of life), I develop a need to maintain the level of acceptable that I have achieved. I know if I let down my guard for even a few hours, that will be the end.
The problem is that I don't accomplish anything else. And I get very short tempered with my children. I extend my ideal fantasy of a nearly acceptable home to include nearly acceptable children who follow most of the rules and play respectfully with one another. But I am too busy focusing on keeping the home acceptable so I have no energy for teaching them to be pleasant with each other and obedient to the rules. I expect them to achieve these things on their own.
Will there ever be a day when both children and house are simultaneously "nearly acceptable "?
The problem is that I don't accomplish anything else. And I get very short tempered with my children. I extend my ideal fantasy of a nearly acceptable home to include nearly acceptable children who follow most of the rules and play respectfully with one another. But I am too busy focusing on keeping the home acceptable so I have no energy for teaching them to be pleasant with each other and obedient to the rules. I expect them to achieve these things on their own.
Will there ever be a day when both children and house are simultaneously "nearly acceptable "?
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