Silence

God's poet is silence! His song is unspoken 

And yet so profound, and so loud, and so far,

That it thrills you and fills you in measures unbroken -

The unceasing song of the first morning star ....

Joaquin Miller, The True Poet

There was a beautiful calmness this week, a gentle invitation for the Spirit into Silence. It was restful, with a grateful recognition of peace, simplicity and community. And then, typically, a familiar moment of turmoil arrived, with its not-so-welcome recognition of panic, confusion and isolation. It amazes me how our default polarities sit so closely together, pulling us from one extreme to the other.

The spiritual masters, saints and mystics have recommended for hundreds and thousands of years, that we consciously place our attention on Silence and Presence, rather than on the story or object of our disharmony; focus on the Presence rather than on the circumstances of the turmoil; focus on the background Silence in which this is all taking place. In this way, the circumstances are acknowledged, allowed and absorbed into the entire background, rather than so dominating our foreground that we cannot even sense Silence as the background.

This is a practice of prioritising Presence over the restless, ever-changing, often weary landscape of our minds. It is the repetitive action of placing our attention on God, on Silence, like the hall light we leave on through the night while we sleep. Ramana Maharshi tells us to concentrate on the light, rather than on what is illuminated by the light. This is our permanent landing place. This is certainly one reminder I constantly use, and somehow, I recognise my true Self there, in recognising God, and an ease comes to the Spirit.

In the attitude of silence the soul finds the path in a clearer light, and what is elusive and deceptive resolves itself into crystal clearness. Our life is a long and arduous quest after Truth.

Mahatma Gandhi

Silence, as Presence, as Beingness, is the background which holds all else, and into which everything is absorbed and dissolves. It is Silence in the presence of turmoil, peace, fear, frustration, joy, disappointment and inconsistency. It is Silence in spite of noise, interruption, disharmony, joy, progression, success. It is the Silence within which our inner knowing is revealed.

In an attitude of trust and silence, we bow everything to God. Contemplation confirms that a higher order of balance and harmony is working its way out in us and in Life itself. These moments of turmoil take us beyond Resilience. We just need to keep our eye on the light, and watch it continue to shine forth in and around us.

Returning to silence is returning to peace.

Returning to peace, the world reharmonises itself.

Lao Tzu

The Highest Good

The highest good is like water,

nourishing life effortlessly,

flowing without prejudice

to the lowliest places.

It springs from all 

who nourish their community

with a benevolent heart as deep as an abyss,

who are incapable of lies and injustices,

who are rooted in the earth,

and whose natural rhythms of action

play midwife to the highest good 

of each joyful moment.

Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

We don't always know what's good for us. We don't always flow with our circumstances. The flow of life can feel like a raging torrent, or a calm sea, oscillating in pace and intensity. At times we are exhilarated, at others we hang on for dear life. It is what it is, and it is constantly moving and changing. We can find ourselves resisting the movement, unable to accept situations, or becoming impatient and forceful in our efforts.

Our lowliest places do best when allowed to exist, when allowed to voice their imbalances and prejudices, their efforts and injustices, their hopes and dreams, their disappointments and joys, their difficulties with being. This is what it means to be ordinary, to be human. We cannot nourish and balance these places until we understand them.

We have all met people whose actions come from goodness and we see the results in our communities and families. When we catch ourselves out of sync with Life's rhythm, it is often these people who help bring us back into balance. They make us laugh when we get too serious, they comfort us when we're struggling, they demand integrity and honesty when we are unwittingly lying to ourselves. They live Life, and are the best version of us.

Contemplation confirms that there is a goodness and benevolence underlying everything. Our experience shows us that Life is moving in the direction of balance, harmony and equanimity. It is not subject to negotiation, cajoling, or force. It has an all-embracing wisdom. It is effortless, yet active. Divine work is taking place. Our job is to stay in the river, and keep swimming. We are a necessary part of the flow.

Polarity - Centredness and Collywobbles

Contemplation recommended for severe cases.



I have been having a mild to moderate dose of the Collywobbles over the past week or so! This is a combination of many factors including Christmas joy, overindulging, social gatherings, lack of routine, little or no precious quiet time, and the ongoing internal noise which flares up from time to time and becomes a little louder. I am looking forward to a reprieve over the next few hopefully uneventful, unplanned days. Guilty at times of swinging from being slightly slothful to overactive, the longing to return to a sense of balance and centredness is very strong.

So what gives us the collywobbles? Loneliness or too much company, feeling under or over-confident, misunderstanding others or being misunderstood, hunger or overindulging, planning ahead expectantly or with dread, being too busy or being a sloth, being too externalised or too self-absorbed, being a fun-addict or being too serious. All these polarities swing from one extreme to the other, and we usually experience both ends at some stage. Collywobbles also come about by worrying about the future, difficulties in relationships, financial strains, starting a new job or a new project, going on a trip, hosting and entertaining, stepping out to perform on-stage, doing an exam, weddings and funerals, birthdays and anniversaries, having a holiday, and basically anything that brings you out of your normal routine. Collywobbles also arise unexpectedly, and perhaps cause a deeper feeling of crisis, when life itself initiates uninvited change through job losses, relationship break-ups, bereavements, illnesses, accidents, or other significant life events.

It happens to all of us. We can become nervous, anxious, angry, resentful, demanding, controlling, silent, defeatist, clingy, despairing, or just have a million thoughts buzzing around in our heads. We can even get headaches, bodyaches, and an urge to withdraw or crawl under the covers for a few hours. How do we return to a state of balance in spite of being collywobbled?

It's really important to know where or what helps you to become centred. For me, I seem to find quiet time alone, writing, reading inspiring material, and being in nature to be natural antidotes to the Collywobbles, and where my Spirit finds rest. I also practice Meditation, T'ai Chi and Qi Gong, though I am guilty at times of foregoing these reliable practices when life speeds up or becomes very challenging and demanding. Isn't it amazing how we can neglect the very practices which are especially beneficial at such demanding times, favouring instead to revert to the old habitual patterns of worry, anxiety, mentally figuring it all out, or whatever our preferred brand of "fixing the situation" involves.

Meditation (e.g. Mindfulness, Loving Kindness, and Centering Prayer taught by Fr. Thomas Keating) and meditative movement such as Qi Gong, T'ai Chi, Yoga, Aikido and Dance, really help to ground us, to lift and change our energy. We get out of our heads. For some, going for a long walk, sitting by the sea, engaging in a favourite hobby or activity, playing/listening to music, sharing your heart with a good friend or family member, or enjoying a lovely meal with people you feel comfortable with, all act as centering activities. Everyone feels natural in some environment.

Having the Collywobbles brings with it an insatiable need to understand what caused them and above all, to fix them and return to being centred at all costs. This urgency can make us prematurely judge others as being to blame for our discomfort. We replay conversations in our heads, we imagine outcomes hoped for in the future, we think back over past errors and difficulties. We are not here.

Contemplation tells us that all of this activity is related to our external self, as Thomas Merton called it. It reminds us of the wisdom that this activity does not impact our inner Self. It reminds us also that whatever is presenting to us is ultimately desiring freedom, rest and balance. Contemplation pulls us back into the realisation that there is divine Presence in all and every circumstance, and our lives are divinely led.

Do not rush yourself out of the Collywobbles. They too carry untold wisdom. In them, we find our limits and our weak points in our external self, and in the external world. They humble us to know we are very little. Their intensity arises a prayer within us seeking to relax back into our true and inner Self. They open the door to inner surrender. They make us stop. The very nature of the external world is restlessness and change, and if unexamined, can busy us compulsively.

In this world you will have trouble. But take heart!
I have overcome the world.  

John 16:33.

Each new dose of Collywobbles reminds me that I have become over-engaged with the external world to the detriment of my real Self. I need to turn inwards to Contemplation. For me, Contemplative practice is like an anchor - the anchor of home, right here in this moment. In terms of the Collywobbles, this anchor might simply be to Allow them. Anchoring might look like this:



Pause
Notice you have a dose of the Collywobbles/Anxiety/Anger/Grief/External focus.
Realise you are in a bit of a mental spin. Let this awareness really sink in. Investigate it. Interview it.
Come into a place of somehow allowing the Collywobbles.
Come into your body. Follow your breath and connect physically or energetically with your belly.
This is what is present, for now. This is allowing the reality of now.
Let Presence also be present.




Allowing the Collywobbles, opens more space around them, calms your mental energy, and strengthens the objective Observer capacity within you. This is one of the main trainings in Mindfulness. Once you practice taking a step back from the intensity of the content of the Collywobbles, you can see them more like mental or energetic knots. The act of allowing them, or even very reluctantly admitting their presence, begins to unravel the knots and allows the containment to free up. We do not even need to know what it's all about, only that we feel knotted up, and we are admitting to that. Allowing the reality of the current moment to be as it is, turns our focus from the external to the internal, and we become receptive to Presence, and pave the way for any wisdom or insights. This contemplative practice of anchoring, allowing, and becoming aware of Presence becomes an ongoing meditation practice. It brings us back to our centre.

“Life is a series of natural and spontaneous changes. Don't resist them; that only creates sorrow. Let reality be reality. Let things flow naturally forward in whatever way they like.” 

Lao Tzu

Apart from the Collywobbles causing at times some very intense mental and emotional discomfort, in the contemplative tradition, contradictions and situations in flux are natural. They present opportunities which challenge us to surrender to divinity even deeper places within us which distract us, or keep our focus away from our true nature. It is the dying off of the old parts of us, of our external habits and of the places we go in crisis. More and more, we may find ourselves in situations which are as yet incomplete, in progress, or unresolved. Contemplative experiences cultivate tolerance for these in-between times and spaces, encouraging us to persevere and be patient until a situation becomes resolved, or we finally know what is the next action required of us. Somehow, this too is allowed. Polarities are never who you really are. They arise. They pass. The true inner Self is centred. Contemplation pulls us inward to recognise the constancy of God's gentle unravelling of us into our true nature.

My Kingdom is not of this world.

John 18.36

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