Wellspring: inspiration and guidance for a spiritual journey

The summer in the belly of the fish, by Tina Simson

In early June my teacher, and spiritual director said to me, “Tina why do you run from God?”

Well, I looked her straight in the eye and I said, “that’s easy, it’s because I’m Unitarian.” But she didn’t crack a smile. And she said once again, this time more softly, “Tina, why do you run from God?”

And so I tried again to explain that we UU’s don’t have burning bushes, or tablets on the mount. I explained that we were rational and skeptical and that God didn’t regularly talk to us. But then she asked, “How do you know?”

With those four words she pinned me to the wall. Because you see, I don’t know, because I don’t listen.

So right then and there I made a commitment to spend the summer in the “belly of the fish.” In case you didn’t catch the reference, I’m talking about Jonah, my new favorite biblical story. It seems Jonah too ignored the voice of God. When God asked Jonah to travel to Nineveh to tell the people that there was a better way to live, he not only ignored God but he actually got on a ship going in the opposite direction. I’m convinced Jonah was Unitarian.

As the story continues, God sends a great storm to get his attention and when Jonah leaps into the churning sea, trying to appease his angry god, a mammoth fish swallows him up.

Now most people see the great fish as the danger, but it was in the belly of the fish that Jonah’s transformation took place. The way I read it, God’s was saying; “hold on a second Jonah, pay attention to me.”

So I made the commitment to take this summer as my time in the belly of the fish. I would commit to care for my soul, walk in the woods and listen for the voice of God.

But then the belly of the fish got crowded, life happened as it always does, and the only voices I heard were those around me needing attention, pulling at me, taking away my precious focus. My family, my friends, even colleagues at work all demanding time. I had days that lasted for weeks.

I wondered where the voice of God was in this messy life of mine. And then I began to whine and complain and fuss, not out loud of course only to myself. Until the only voice I heard at all was my own and it was then that I realized…
I was drowning out the voice of God.

I understood, then that this life is the belly of the fish, it’s the place God speaks to me, coaxing my soul out of it’s dark corners, calling me to hear the voice.

So I listened…

My husband, his hand badly burned and in pain… says softly over the phone “ no, Tina stay where you are. I’m really ok. I’ll call Richard and Jo to help me, this retreat means too much to you, don’t come home”

My son Josh sends a note from Iraq, “it’s quieter here this time, the hospital is empty and there are fewer mortars coming into the base, we haven’t had to drop to the ground very often at all and I can’t wait to come home.”

My granddaughter, who is two, squeals in delight as Josh comes off the plane… “Daddy” she screams and she breaks through the crowd to be scooped up in his capable arms.

My brand new grandson coos and murmurs his newborn sounds nestled against my chest fitting perfectly next to my heart.

My father sits quietly as I cut his nails and rub hand cream into his dry hands, he is 83, he is blind and his hearing is going and he asks that I write a list for him, which he cannot read but must have…music he must hear before he hears nothing at all and we write Tchaikovsky’s Concerto Number One and Pathatique, and Tannhäuser and Shaharazade and I write the list and promise to bring the music and in the quiet of the summer afternoon, I hear the voice of god.

And this time, I pay attention.

Marty stopped chasing bunnies, by Tina Simson

Something profound happened this morning; Marty stopped chasing bunnies. You remember Marty my sweet old dog and guru. Well this morning, we were walking and right in front of him, munching on some grass was a massive rabbit. Marty saw him and in a moment, when I’m sure they made eye contact, the bunny acknowledged Marty’s existence and Marty growled “Hrumpf” under his breath and kept walking.

Now, just so you know, since the very day we brought Marty home 14 years ago, every time we let him out the front door, he clears the field with barks and growls that light up the neighborhood. He announces his presence and lets everyone know that this is his territory and all should beware. We say he’s protecting us from the “evil doers” and we feel infinitely safe. Then he goes about perusing the property, sniffing and grumbling to himself. We call this, “Marty on Safari.” We’re not sure what that means, but we know it’s important business.

The other thing Marty does without fail is chase rabbits, it’s his job. And we have lots of rabbits. In all these years he has never caught one but he is intent in his effort. If he’s inside, he chases from window to window, barking in a fit of annoyance that they even consider coming into his yard.

So whatever should I make of his acceptance of this nemesis? I came inside and opened my book on Native American Animal Totems. Totems explain that the energy of various animals teach us about aspects of ourselves. It reads that Rabbits are our annoying fears, those niggling shadows that darken our paths and stop our progress. Here’s what I read.

“Rabbits are guides into the shadow world, where all of our personal fears lie. When the rabbit appears it is time to examine those deep reflexive fears that hold you back from growing. Do you keep dashing for the safety of your old patterns every time something new or challenging presents itself? If so the rabbit asks you to face your fears with compassion for yourself. Accept that it is part of human nature to feel fear at times, but also believe that our fears need not paralyze our growth and movement.”

Fear, like rabbits, is inevitable and fear is one of my least favorite emotions. Personally when fears rise in my life I attack with as much vigor as Marty chases the rabbits. We can avoid fear in so many ways, by isolating ourselves, and through addictions of all sorts. I hide from fears by tracking them down, looking for “information” thinking about solutions. This all seems so practical but in honesty it doesn’t work. I’m still scared.

So what was Marty telling me today? Is it time to stop fighting with that, which scares me? Is it possible that I can live with fear as a neighbor rather than an enemy? Was he showing me how to acknowledge the fears right in my path and stop trying to run them down? Was he telling me that at some point in life, it is better to make friends with all the things that scare me? I’m not sure I have any answers yet but I’m sure he is telling me that there is much to learn from that which scares me.

Leave it to my old dog to teach me new tricks.

Things I learned from an old dog, by Tina Simson

It’s been a long time since I’ve written a post for our blog. To say that I’ve been busy doesn’t do justice to my life. I have a job. I’m on the Board of Trustees at church, a member of two very active committees, and I’m in seminary. In the next few weeks I’ll have oral exams, write a 10-page paper on my spiritual journey (which I think I can do justice to in a paragraph), attend a weeklong intensive for which I have 70 questions due on the World's religions and my son leaves for his second duty in Iraq. This trumps everything.

So this morning, faced with these struggles, all I want is to go for a walk with my very old dog, Marty. He is my spiritual guide, extraordinaire so I thought I’d share some of his early morning lessons with you.

Walking the same path can be full of excitement. Everyday is a new journey.

If you get tired on this journey all you need to do is sit down and the neighbors will come over to see how you’re doing.

Going slow and steady is an honorable pace.

Walking right through the mud makes the whole trip worthwhile.

If you get too excited and your bottom-half falls out from under you, you don’t have to stop wagging your tail.

There are always enough crows to complain about and surprisingly they don’t care.

There’s no need for instant messaging, texting or e-mail…when you get out and about you see real people.

When you get home there’s no need to apologize for taking a morning nap, or an afternoon nap or napping all day long.

When you nap, your dreams remind you of all the other glorious walks you’ve ever taken.

After your nap, there’s enough time to figure out how to open the ‘lazy Susan’ pull out the confectioner’s sugar, rip it open and drag it around the house for a while before your people come home.

If you’re too tired at night, to climb the stairs to your comfortable chair in the bedroom, all you need to do is whine just a little bit. Someone will pick you up and carry you.

So, I think I’ll be napping today, dreaming of rain for my garden. I’ll call my son to see how he’s doing and wait for my friends to pick me up and carry me.

Love to you all.

Is it OK to talk to you about this stuff? By Tina Simson

We UU’s are not too comfortable with the idea of having a Spiritual Director. We resist the concept of direction and often find other terms for them like Spiritual Partner, Guide, or Friend. Sometimes the only choices we have available are people trained in the Christian tradition and the sessions take on a type of translation, or searching for an agreeable language. So how do you navigate this new type of relationship?

Sometimes it helps to know first what Spiritual Direction is not. It’s not psychotherapy. Individuals should not be looking for help to change behavior patterns, or to understand the motivations for neurosis. It’s not to solve problems with relationships or intimacy or communication. And it’s not to treat depression or anxiety or any serious Mental Illness.

Spiritual Direction is a journey you take with another in search of the divine. A spiritual director is a person who walks by your side and observes the path through an extra set of eyes. She helps you understand your relationships as soul expanders and challenges the edges of your beliefs. A spiritual director helps you seek and listen to the small voice inside yourself and see your struggles as growth. She holds open a door you have found and gives you permission to walk in.

The confusing thing is that we often talk to a spiritual director about the same kinds of things you might talk to a counselor about. We have the same life after all. But it’s the focus that’s different. The objective is to enlarge our understanding of our life to include a spiritual perspective. We may struggle with a relationship and wonder, how do I see myself in this person, how do I see god? That’s different from, how to I improve my communication skills to make this better.

This year as a seminarian, I offered to meet with three Wellspring individuals as a Spiritual Partner or Friend. As long as they knew I was a student, I felt I could walk with them on this journey and offer support. These relationships have become so dear to me and have deeply enhanced my life and my own spiritual growth. I remember my Spiritual Director from last year saying the same things to me. He said he felt enriched each time he walked away from our discussions. So maybe that’s it after all, a friendship rooted in deep listening and spiritual searching that feeds the heart of both parties. What a gift.

I’ve got my junk together and I’m taking it on the road, by Tina Simson

One of our Wellspring participants talked recently about this invisible suitcase we all have shackled to our leg. He said it was filled with all our life’s junk, the hurt, the troubles, the grudges, and the sadness. He said when we are in a good place, we remember to pick it up and carry it around. When we’re not, we forget to pick it up. We then drag it around causing us to trip, and walk encumbered and exhausted.

We all chuckled at this analogy with some embarrassment and self-knowing. But as I thought about this more, I realized that individuals on a spiritual quest often come face to face with their psychological traumas or vise versa. Unresolved issues can become glaring to us during meditation and spiritual practice. Wounded relationships, disappointments, workplace integrity challenges all become more visible when we pay close attention to our whole lives.

At times like this, spiritual practice may not be enough to allow us to successfully integrate the difficulties of our lives into our living. And we have to be careful that our spiritual practice does not become a place to hide from changes we need to make in our lives. At times it is necessary to work with a healer, to resolve our troubles and to move on.

Likewise, people who work with healers and therapists may find that they too reach a roadblock where needs grow toward a spiritual path. This is a time for spiritual direction.

Jack Kornfield, a Buddhist teacher and noted psychologist suggests our consciousness grows in spirals. He offers a great essay on how old wounds affect our spiritual path. Karen Armstrong, one of our Wellspring resources, writes eloquently about her journey in The Spiral Staircase: My Path out of Darkness. We learn and grow and revisit our struggles repeatedly throughout life. It’s not that we make no progress; it’s just that each stage has many dimensions to explore. Sometimes you need a different partner for different dimensions.

If you find yourself stuck on either side, feeling that your personal issues are interfering with your spiritual practice or that your healing work is stalled, it may be time to look in a different direction. There are many types of healing practices available from Qi Gong to therapeutic bodywork like the Rosen Method, to traditional psychotherapy, to the Japanese healing practice of Reiki. It is important to check the training and credentials of your chosen practitioners.

When looking for spiritual direction, check with the ministers at your church. If you’re not affiliated with a congregation, check out the Spiritual Directors International or the Unitarian Universalist Spiritual Directors’ Network. And remember ask questions and look for the right fit.

So if your suitcase of issues is getting heavy, or you are forgetting to pick it up and tripping more often, maybe it’s time to embrace the spiral and chose a different direction.

What do a Mennonite and a Unitarian Unversalist have in common? by Joy Collins

Do you look skeptical at the notion of Spiritual Direction? I sure did. Being a “fallen away Catholic”, I find that I have developed an aversion to following an authoritarian religious leader. I was lead astray once, and why wouldn’t it happen again? When I heard of “spiritual direction” I was quite doubtful because it sounded like just one more person who would be telling me what to do. I had had enough of that.

What a delightful surprise to find that I, as a UU, am completing my second year of being wisely “directed” by a Mennonite! I was clear upfront when I met Eileen, that I am agnostic at best, and that I view my religious journey as an organic one. Eileen has gone through specific spiritual direction training and was not surprised at my concern.

What I found out is that, just like there is a spectrum of beliefs among UUs, there is also a spectrum of beliefs and open-mindedness among Mennonites. As a trained Spiritual Director, Eileen listens deeply to me, asks open-ended questions, affirms the historical kinship of being in spiritual struggle, occasionally shares her own experience, and gently prods me about what I might do differently as a result of our conversation.

This is exactly what I try to do as a UU! The beauty of spiritual direction is the focus, empathy and discipline of being in a one-on-one dialogue with another person on the journey. Their own unique path only adds to the richness.

If you want to know more about spiritual companionship check out these links below.

What is Spiritual Direction? (from Spiritual Direction International) and a spiritual direction Wikipedia definition with some additional links