Wellspring: inspiration and guidance for a spiritual journey

The Theology of Joy, by Libby Moore

I love this time of year, basking in end-of-summer peace and quiet but also looking ahead to what's coming in the fall. The beginning of school was always a pleasure to me, getting back to new subjects, new teachers, friends, books. Even as a retired adult, I find that September brings the promise of new things. The lazy summer days are made sweeter with the anticipation of good work to come.

Wellspring is good work, indeed. Jen and Joy and I met last week to prepare for our new groups, which will start getting to know each other at our retreat in September and then meet regularly every two weeks after that. Members of the new groups have been preparing, also – finding their spiritual directors, getting books, starting to think about their spiritual practices. I've been hearing from them with questions, especially about spiritual direction, which is so foreign to UU's. It's exciting to think of these wonderful people coming together with their stories and strengths, their openness and their resistance to change, growing together over time into a cohesive, supportive unit.

One of the things Jen and Joy and I did in our planning was to revise one of the sessions. We realilzed that we made room for the crises of life and how UU's face those and that we talk about perspectives on evil, but we hadn't included anything about joy. How do we, with our Puritanical roots, incorporate joy into our spiritual lives? Is joy an integral part of our religious experience? Our UU heritage stresses service to the world, the interdependent web of existence, truth and justice. All good, but what about the joy that comes with connection and love? Is that a legitimate part of our theology? We thought we'd use one Wellspring session to explore these questions. (We removed the session on our local church history, since we talk about that in other contexts).

The reading list for this topic isn't firmed up yet, but there are so many possibilities. There's an article from the Kripalu newsletter called "The Yoga of Pleasure," by Sally Kempton, which talks about including simple pleasures in our spiritual lives. There's a book called Stumbling on Happiness, which talks about why we're so often dissatisfied and about the surprising ways we find ourselves happy. There's a lovely book of poetry called Dancing with Joy by Roger Housden, which celebrates joy in its many manifestations. We're joyful at the idea of putting this session together and adding it to our already rich curriculum. If you'd like to take a look at the revised curriculum, click on the Wellspring Curriculum link in the column on the right.

A Border collie with nothing to do, by Joy

Buddy is our wonderful 14-year-old border collie, who like all of them, is busy trying to herd all moving creatures. He can simultaneously keep an eye on both of us, our other dog, the mail carrier and any other passersby. We think it’s his way of feeling safe in the world. My partner does a funny imitation of a boss going down a list of responsibilities, running her finger down a make-believe piece of paper saying, “Buddy, humm, Buddy, let me see what you’re responsible for…Oh, here it is, Buddy…Nothin’!!” He wags and we laugh.

And lest we think it is just border collies who are overly responsible, there is an amazing piece in the August 27 Newsweek Beliefwatch column.
China is now forbidding monks in Tibet from reincarnating without government permission. One of their ministries calls this “an important move to institutionalize management of reincarnation.” My first reaction was this is a joke, it is so ridiculous. But having last week seen the film 10 Questions for the Dalai Lama, I realize how seriously the Chinese government is attempting to control something obviously out of its control.

This got me thinking that it probably isn’t just Buddy the Border collie and the Chinese government who have control issues. What do I think I have control over that is simply an illusion? How do I distract myself from existential fears, instead of confronting them? As Buddy and I do our morning walk, once again, I thank him for being such a good reminder of what is important to contemplate.

Dailiness, by Libby Moore

Some summers ago at Chautauqua I was introduced to a wonderful little book called Illuminated Life: Monastic Wisdom for Seekers of the Light, by Joan Chittister, who describes the contemplative life in the context of the modern world, with all its distractions and demands. Writing from the Benedictine tradition, which is far removed from my Unitarian upbringing, she still speaks to what matters to me as she sees the challenges of life but keeps a clear sense of what matters most deeply. The lessons from the desert monastics along with her chapters on the spiritual life have relevance for my far-from-monastic life because she is so realistic about the contemplative life in the modern world and why it is so important.

Chittister illuminates the spiritual life by going through the alphabet of its qualities – awareness, beauty, community, and so on, through yearning and zeal. I'm particularly fond of the chapter on Dailiness, which reminds me that the small daily routines of my life are not boring interruptions of my quest for spiritual growth but give me the space to ponder the greater questions. Resistant as I am to household chores, I'm trying to do these chores with a sense of love and connection. I'm trying to keep my life in order because I like having my life in order, because I like being in a calm and peaceful environment.

I've taken to reading a chapter of Illuminated Life as part of my morning mediation, because it gives me something rich and grounded to consider as I sit in silence and then as I move through my day. Here's a piece of what Chittister says about dailiness:

Regularity has been a mark of the spiritual life in every century, in every tradition. The rule of Benedict is built on an ordo of prayer, work, and reading that forms the backbone of every day of the monastic life. Why? Because the spiritual life is meant to be dull? No, because the spiritual life is meant to be constant, meant to be centered. The dailiness of spiritual practices, the practices of daily life, focus the heart and concentrate the mind. Incessant agitation, unending variety, constant novelty, a torrent of gadgetry, a life filled with the strange and the unfamiliar irritate the soul and fragment the inner vision. Dailiness, routine, sameness freees the heart to traffic in more important matters.

During this summer of travels and visits and parties and beaches, it's been such a pleasure each time to come home to the quiet routines of our daily life, where I can look out the window at the pond as I'm washing the dishes and know that this is where I find peace.

 

Small-group connection through e-courses, by Tina

Ah, the wondrous Internet! One of my favorite web resources Spirituality and Practice is offering a way to access their e-courses privately for your own church group, spirituality circle, or other group. I recently received an e-mail from Persephone, their Coordinator of Spiritual Literacy Project, who happens to be a UU. Below is how she describes this innovative option.

We hear all the time about how hard it is these days to gather groups together -- there are often problems synchronizing schedules, the need to be with families and friends in the evenings and on weekends, travel and babysitting expenses, etc. Having your own private online community is one way for a group to share your spiritual journeys without having to be physically together. We've also found that having a focus for your online conversation -- such as the daily quotes in the e-course mailings and the practice suggestions -- keeps the momentum going and keeps people coming back.

Our upcoming e-courses are Practicing Spirituality with Thich Nhat Hanh and Practicing Spirituality with Henri J. M. Nouwen (a flyer describing them is here: http://www.spiritualityandpractice.com/ecourses/2007ecourses.pdf
Your group can also choose from any of our on-demand e-courses which you'll find on the second page of the flyer.

Here's how your community's e-course would work. We'd create a special sign-up page for your small group that would describe the e-course and your practice circle (adding any special copy you supply, if you want), and give you a link to distribute to your group or to post on your website. Then when people signed up through that link, they would get an email with the link into your practice circle. Your people would pay the same for the course as anybody else, along with a $5 set-up fee per person to cover the technical costs.

This sounds like a great option for many types of small group ministries. The courses are rich and diverse, just what UU’s need! If you are interested in more information you can e-mail Persephone at persephone@spiritualityandpractice.com

Cleaning House, by Libby Moore

Our eighteen-year-old granddaughter is coming to visit this week, the first time she's come by herself since she was seven or eight, and we're really excited. I wanted to get her room tidied up and ready for her, which has led to days of scrubbing and washing curtains and getting rid of ancient dust bunnies in every room in the house. The truth is, I hate house cleaning, which is why it so rarely gets done and why it's taking so long now, getting into the nooks and crannies that have been long neglected.

The thing about housecleaning is that nobody notices unless it's not clean. When there are cobwebs in the corners, fingerprints on the woodwork and grime on the windowsills, people notice. When it's sparkling clean, that's the way it should be, and it's taken for granted. I notice dirt but my husband doesn't – as long as the house is reasonably tidy, he thinks it's fine. It's one of our minor continuing arguments. I get aggravated at feeling pressured to take care of it, but put it off and put it off.

It's one of those things where I know there's more I should do but I don't get around to it, like so much of the work I should be doing in the world. I'm in an odd space just now, trying to figure out what that work should be. In May I completed five years of work that I loved, mentoring teachers of young children. But the grant ran out, so there's no more work. I've been enjoying a real summer vacation but I haven't quite figured out what comes next, what the fall will bring. I do know that I need to do something of use in the world. For now, I'm trying to live quietly and listen for what comes, believing, as the Quakers say, that "way opens."

And so here I am as I wait, washing windows and vacuuming the ceilings, doing work that nobody will notice. Because it's the right thing to do. Gotta get back to it – I'm not done yet.

Summer Full Moon, by Joy

I am usually oblivious to a summer full moon. I am an early-to-bed early-to-rise type, and a month or more can go by in the summer when I don’t see stars or the moon. I am generally not up when it’s dark.

Last night was an exception. I was awake in the middle of the night and found myself looking out the skylight as this gorgeous full moon bathed the room. I had forgotten about her!

This morning I went out for my daily jog and because of my midnight memory, I looked up to the tree line on my street. And there she was! That full moon was still there, just lower in the sky and hardly visible in the summer sunshine. My entire route I played the game of noticing when I could see the moon, and when she was tucked behind trees or a building, or the brightness of the day. I found delight in my peek-a-boo game. There was no anxiety because I knew the moon was there, just sometimes obstructed.

I wish I was so full of faith about my own soul or inner divine light! How easily I get “unplugged” or lose my bond to that part of me. Today was a reminder that even if I don’t feel connected, it’s not because my divine light is extinguished. It is because I have temporarily lost my ability to feel my inner “full moon.” And ironically I sometimes get blinded by the summer light of distractions. It is a gentle reminder to cultivate those ways back to a calm midnight space where I can say “oh yeah, there she is!”