The Seven Whispers

You know how some books are tiny in size and length, but pack a wallop of meaning in them? The Seven Whispers is like that for me. It’s written by friend and colleague, Christina Baldwin (2002), who has among her gifts, the one of being able to be very clear. She reaches and touches the broadest perspective, and then brings it back down to the dirt and mud we stand upon.

Christina’s subtitle, Listening to the Voice of Spirit is essential — no, she is not talking about a particular spiritual tradition, but invoking a deep quality of listening in and among us. It’s what many of us working with groups are hoping for — listening to what is emerging from our interaction together. The title of her introduction, A Spiritual Practice for Times Like These is brilliant. It names time just enough about time to make it timeless.

These days I find myself saying these whispers to myself, weaving them in to my teachings, and feeling that all I need to stand on is right in front of me. Enjoy the read. Gift yourself with the book (nope, no commissions for me — just the satisfaction of sharing something I really care about and find helpful).

The seven whispers are:

  • Maintain peace of mind.
  • Move at the pace of guidance.
  • Practice certainty of purpose.
  • Surrender to surprise.
  • Ask for what you need and offer what you can.
  • Love the folks in front of you.
  • Return to the world.

Horizons

horizon

It’s hard not to be attracted to a horizon, right. There is something inviting. Something that pulls not only eyesight, but an inner imagination beyond the edges. Horizons open many of us. Even, if just for a moment, to lift our sight, and again, our imagination, beyond that task list and those deadlines on the paper or screen in front of us.

I snapped the horizon in the picture above, just yesterday. I was flying from Denver in to Salt Lake City. This picture faces south and east, about fifteen minutes from landing in Salt Lake City. I love the clouds as layer. I love the sky underneath. I love the two ranges that bound a valley. Miles and miles.

In Denver, this weekend I worked with the Vestry of the Saint John’s Cathedral, Bishop, and two local clergy. My friend and colleague, Father Charles LaFond and I hosted this group of thirteen people, that was very much a day of looking at horizons. In this case, the horizon included growing and building upon a practice of discernment. This vestry is in some significant decision-making, which includes recommending a next dean of the cathedral, which will of course impact much of the future.

“Discernment,” Charles reminds me and us, “is not just decision making. They are related, but not the same.” Discernment is more, right. And sometimes something that we need to reminded of both individually and collectively. Discernment, to me, digs deeper. It utilizes our good brains and good thinking. It welcomes our good hearts and honest feeling. It requires our good bellies, a knowing that reaches to deep places and is often only heard in a whisper.

Epistemology is a rather big word, isn’t it. I remember learning it in college and tripping over how to say it. I learned it as “ways of knowing.” It is the study of where knowing comes from. What I loved with the Denver group is there commitment to knowing from many layers, and, their welcoming of not just the task in front of them — “ready, go, let’s get to it” — but also, their willingness to look into the horizon. Up from the paper. Out through the window. Over to the mountains, and further to the next range. To see the awe, pause and stay with it, and then recognize that awe, in an among us, arising from being willing to engage with one another in the horizon that is just a bit of learning and few important questions together.

What a great day. It’s hard not to be attracted to that, too, right.

Hockey Kid Helping Hockey Kid

OK, so, I love this. It’s one young hockey kid helping another (just under three minutes). I love the tenderness in this. I love the stick-to-it-ness.

I played hockey growing up. From the age of six, skating (if you could call it that) mostly on my wobbly ankles. I played often at the community outdoor rink. Got better. Wore our favorite player’s jerseys. That’s what we did back then. I was one of those kids that walked to the rink with skates hanging over my hockey stick behind my shoulders. I played in community leagues for 15 years.

I played even more, as a kid, for hours and hours and hours in the basement. It was awesome that my mom ran a dance studio — open, polished floor. No skates. Sometimes equipment. Mostly hockey sticks and tennis balls taking turns taking shots with my friends and, oops, breaking a few windows and dance mirrors along the way. Mom was patient.

Hockey is such a great game. It’s grown into something that is a bit harder to recognize. It’s promoted as violent (“went to the fights and a hockey game broke out”). It’s a rough game, but it’s also a beautiful game. It’s fluid, always in motion. Requires laser focus and good peripheral awareness.

So much to say. For today, however, it’s just about kindness. Thanks David Gouthro for sharing this.

In Difficult Times, We Disagree About Reality

“In difficult times, we disagree about reality. So we are drenched in false descriptions, verdicts, reasons that make no sense—we need to build a wall against Mexicans because, well, ISIS. Yes, that’s what delusion is like. The inner life counts, and is the beginning of addressing our condition. So the first task of the inner life is not to amplify the delusions, not to add hatred to hatred but to head in a different direction, to be openhearted without being gullible.”

It’s John Tarrant that wrote these words above. I haven’t met John, but he seems like a wise guy, in the best of ways. I have written about him before. He is, among other things, director of The Pacific Zen Institute. The full article, “How To Welcome The End of The World” is a read that I enjoyed, published in The Lion’s Roar. It’s all about welcome. Here’s some teasers:

  • Emptiness is Real
  • The Bodhisattva Path
  • Empathy
  • Being Companions to Each Other
  • We Don’t Need To Know How It’s Going To Come Out
  • A Little Note About Delusion
  • Who Am I Anyway
  • Trust and Welcome
  • The Apocalypse Also Needs Friends
  • The End of the World Is Here