The Divine Image

Stained Glass at Mount Melleray Cistercian Abbey, Cappoquin

The Divine Image

To Mercy Pity Peace and Love

All pray in their distress:

And to these virtues of delight

Return their thankfulness.

For Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is God our father dear:

And Mercy Pity Peace and Love,

Is Man his child and care.

For Mercy has a human heart

Pity, a human face:

And Love, the human form divine,

And Peace, the human dress.

Then every man of every clime,

That prays in his distress,

Prays to the human form divine

Love Mercy Pity Peace.

And all must love the human form,

In heathen, turk or jew.

Where Mercy, Love & Pity dwell,

There God is dwelling too.

William Blake, Songs of Innocence and of Experience, c.1789.

When disappointed by others, when saddened and frustrated by our own efforts, when it's just tough going - it is a relief to be reminded of the purity and goodness inside all beings, even ourselves. Behind it all, there is Love, Mercy, Pity and Peace. There is Rest. There is Presence.

I can see why Thomas Merton loved the poetry of William Blake.

Pause For A Moment

A quiet day's pause 

Time slows to an easy pace

Nature is basking

Hurry finds no hit today

Contentedness arises

How lovely to find a long quiet day stretching out ahead, with no appointments, no deadlines, and nothing at all to be achieved. It is with a grateful heart that I find one, today.

Everyone needs a moment to immerse themselves in their own natural way. It is my constant prayer that my outside world becomes a more natural rhythm for me. In other words, it is my prayer that those internal disharmonies soften even more so that the external world then reflects this ease and harmony. Much energy is pulled from within when we find ourselves in an unnatural rhythm. It is not possible to sustain it for very long, without feeling exhausted and strained. The prayer is that we can adapt and move seamlessly from one role to the next, whatever the context, all the while following an internal natural dial. I don't think we were even meant to be anything other than this.

Our natural rhythm may be a quiet one for some, or filled with company for others. Either way, it's best to find our own balance. Some need a burst of spontaneity, of fun and laughter. Some need that elusive alone-time, others want to read, to write, to go for that long walk, to play music, to watch a movie. A nap, anyone? Do we even know how tired we actually are? Whether we have just a few precious hours, or the whole day, or joy of joys, a few days, make it a retreat for your heart, for the deep aches of the inmost self. Get re-attuned to your natural rhythm.

Enjoy these accidental mini holidays, whenever they come along. Don't fill them with emails, phone calls, TV, chores, or social media. Everything can wait. This is an outstanding opportunity to spend the day listening and seeing, rather than planning and doing. This is a chance to receive the day as it unfolds.

Intuition tells us when to move on, where to go, and what to do or say next. By anchoring our attention on what surrounds us - listening to the sounds, seeing the activity in nature, following our intuition - we are in prayer. By being present to the Presence, we strengthen our ability to lead a contented blessed life, within the natural rhythm of Life, whatever our role.

This is a sacred discipline.

Every moment and every event of every man's life on earth plants something in his soul.

Thomas Merton, New Seeds of Contemplation

Recovery

A host of golden daffodils

I wandered lonely as a cloud

That floats on high o'er vales and hills,

When all at once I saw a crowd,

A host of golden daffodils;

Beside the lake, beneath the trees,

Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Continuous as the stars that shine

And twinkle on the Milky Way,

They stretched in never-ending line

Along the margin of a bay:

Ten thousand saw I at a glance,

Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.

The waves beside them danced, but they

Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:

A poet could not but be gay,

In such a jocund company:

I gazed - and gazed - but little thought

What wealth the show to me had brought:

For oft, when on my couch I lie

In vacant or in pensive mood,

They flash upon that inward eye

Which is the bliss of solitude;

And then my heart with pleasure fills,

And dances with the daffodils.

William Wordsworth, I Wandered Lonely as a Cloud. c. 1804.

At peak times of activity, work deadlines, family challenges and demands, we can often be left with a longing for rest time - a time to recover. It connects me too with the recovery time needed after a period of illness. There is often a blessing in the fatigue and weakness which we can encounter at these times. We have endured a period of hardship, and find ourselves empty and exhausted. 

Our strength and direction have momentarily left us. We don't feel able for much activity, if any, and even conversation can be demanding. At times of illness, we may have to hand ourselves and our well-being over to teams of doctors and specialists, who schedule us for tests, for diagnosis, and treatment. We are cared for by nurses or family members, who encourage us to eat something. 

In spite of it all, once pain is not excessive, we can be quite content in this momentary time of weakness. It keeps ambition and restlessness at bay - they too receive little energy or focus from us. That, in itself, is a great balm for the mind and body. We pace ourselves, getting a little exercise, eating a little wholesome food, snoozing, having a little read, a little conversation, and another snooze. Bit by bit, we continue to strengthen.

Recovery is a gentle time - time to rest, to be quiet, to let the inner rhythm dictate the pace. Time to admire the daffodils, the nesting birds, to feel the heat of the sun on our face, on our back. Time to see what nature is doing - it constantly gives us clues as to what we should be doing, or not doing, and the natural pace of the season. It is time to retreat, to go inwards and replenish. To go back to Source, and soothe the emptiness and confusion. It is a sacred time. Every now and again, it's good to recover. To take stock of our lives and our direction. To recover our balance, our rhythm, our natural way. To recover ourselves. 

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects ... is to succumb to the violence of our times.

Thomas Merton

Every season moves onto the next. We will move forward again soon enough.

Lead Kindly Light

Stained Glass at Mount Melleray Abbey

The Pillar of the Cloud

Lead, Kindly Light, amid the encircling gloom; Lead Thou me on.

The night is dark, and I am far from home; Lead Thou me on. 

Keep Thou my feet; I do not ask to see the distant scene; 

one step enough for me. 

I was not ever thus, nor pray'd that Thou shouldst lead me on; 

I loved to choose and see my path, but now lead Thou me on.

I loved the garish day, and, spite of fears, pride ruled my will: 

remember not past years. 

So long Your power hath blest me, sure it still will lead me on, 

o'er moor and fen, o'er crag and torrent, till the night is gone; 

and with the morn those angel faces smile 

which I have loved long since, and lost awhile.

John Henry Newman, at sea, 16th June 1833

Lenten Compline Hymn, Mount Melleray Abbey

I was very blessed to join in a prayerful retreat at Mount Melleray Abbey, near Cappoquin, where the above hymn was sung by the monks at the Compline office (evening prayer). It was composed by John Henry Newman in a period of turmoil, as he struggled to get home to England from Europe, and to pursue an inner pull to transform the Church. He endured loneliness, illness and a deep yearning to begin his quest, though he did not yet know what truly lay ahead for him.

I am in great gratitude for the presence of these inspiring Cistercian monks, who honour and live out their devotion to God, Love, Silence, Community and Contemplation, and allow us to join in and anchor ourselves there too. We know not what lies ahead for us, but by anchoring ourselves in the strength of our prayers, our deep inner knowing, and Silence, we invite and embody Rest.

Retreat

If the Cross is deeply contemplated, it is saying that love is supreme, and that the darkness and the apparent unfairness of life can be endured. In the Cross, love is able to speak ... speak to any human situation, whether of loss, of persecution, of disillusion.

Fr. John Woolley

As we begin the Lenten season, it reminds me again to look within, to recognise those unhelpful hiding places and defensive positions, those habitual reactions to others and to life, and to seek Love's comfort, Love's help, Love's understanding, Love's patience, Love's company, Love's solitude, Love's resilience, Love's invitation to surrender and overcome, Love's rest. 

A Contemplative Practice

Contemplation is a form of prayer and inner knowing. Thomas Merton calls it the intuitive grasp by which love gains certitude of God's creative and dynamic intervention in our daily life. Contemplation isn't something we do, but rather an explanation or description of how we are transformed from within. St. John of the Cross wrote about this inner transformation in The Dark Night of the Soul. We become emptied and purified by life's trials and experiences. It is in the daily, often unsure, living of our lives when we consent to this process of being transformed, that we can ultimately rest back into our true nature. Here, Wisdom grows, and we recognise ourselves. A daily Contemplative practice helps us surrender moment by moment to this process, and brings us back to Resting in God (St. Gregory The Great).

In the dark night of the soul, bright flows the river of God.

If a man wishes to be sure of the road he treads on, he must close his eyes and walk in the dark.

St. John of the Cross.

Here are some contemplative practices which help to stay anchored in the Heart:

1. Exercise every day, even if it is a short 15 minute walk. The body needs it.
2. Get out into nature, or at least let your eyes visit it. Nature knows balance.
3. Have a moment of prolonged silence. Practice meditation or meditative movement. Plan a retreat to immerse deeper into Silence.
4. Develop the ability to hear intuitively. Practice listening and receiving. Surrendering is allowing situations to be as they are. Active times move seamlessly into times of retreat and then forward again into action. Move and respond to this rhythm.
5. Let music feed your Spirit.
6. There is a season for everything. Allow things and people to ebb and flow.
7. Know yourself. Forgive your flaws and habitual reactions - they'll probably always be with you. Contemplation brings them to rest. Allow others to have their flaws.
8. Laugh, a lot.
9. Love. Someone at rest with themselves can love easily.
10. Be willing to grieve how little you know, how little power you have, how misunderstood you can be, how painful your circumstances can become. This is purification - the dark night of the soul. Grief transforms into a deep peace and inner knowing.
11. Know what anchors you and brings you inner Rest. Consent to it.
12. Read sacred enlightened texts daily. Remember and recognise Truth.
13. Consent to Spirit/God/Presence within. This is Contemplative Prayer. You are being prayed into Being.

Start thinking about a practice you can manage. Contemplation invites you to make anchoring your practice, and then do it continually. There is no success, no failure. By allowing the current moment to be as it is, Rest is welcomed. You are home.

A Heart Without Words

I am neither a man of letters nor of science,
but I humbly claim to be a man of prayer.
It is prayer that has saved my life.
Without it I would have lost my reason long ago.
If I did not lose my peace of soul, in the midst of my many trials,
it is because of the peace that comes to me through prayer.

Mahatma Gandhi

Mahatma Gandhi said that prayer is not asking. It is a longing of the soul. It is daily admission of one's weakness. "It is better in prayer to have a heart without words than words without a heart."

How many times have we found it impossible to put words on what is in our hearts? Words often cannot capture the landscape there, or touch the yearning. We may try to find words to describe it, but they inevitably fall short.

I have always known that the deepest aches of the heart are always heard. They are utterances longing for rest. Sometimes just being heard is enough for them. At others, the allowing of the interior ache to exist brings untold relief. Sometimes, we have to practice patient unknowing until some sense of resolution eventually comes.

We have also known times when the deepest joys have sculpted the interior landscape in ways we find difficult to express. When we tried to share these moments, they paled in significance, and we eventually learned to treasure these places within, no longer holding the necessity to bring others there.

We do not need to speak. We do not need words. The heart speaks volumes. And it is heard. This is Contemplation.

  We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.

Romans 8:26

Beyond Resilience

Each life is a mystery that is never finally available to the mind's light or questions. That we are here is a huge affirmation; somehow life needed us and wanted us to be.

John O'Donohue

What we can miss most at times of turmoil is Rest, the ability to move through our daily activities with the often unappreciated comforts of familiarity and knowingness. Turmoil introduces change, doubts, insecurities, frustrations, and an unknowingness of what new direction will unfold.

At times we overreact. We grade the level of turmoil as being higher than it actually is. Even a small trigger can catch us believing for a time something hugely significant is happening. At other times, we are shocked how wide the ripples and how deep the implications of change which are thrust upon us.

I always felt resilience was one of the most enviable of human qualities, found more in some people than others. Resilience and adaptability help shorten the adjustment time in periods of change. This bounce-back-ability is often seen to be at its peak in children. They may cry in pain after a fall or a falling-out with a sibling or friend, and then quickly recover and begin a new game together. The compulsion for fun and the enjoyment of the moment or the game, or the company of their buddy, by far overrides any pain they can now hardly even remember. It seems at some point, the felt pains stack up, even for children, and a subtle strategy to avoid pain begins, and can last a lifetime if left unchallenged.

Even for those lucky adults who have a high level of resilience, there are many times when they too find themselves at a loss and struggle to adjust to what life is presenting. Grief, illness, relationships, home life, work, finances, and funnily enough, even the weather can severely affect our equilibrium. We need time to come back to Resting. (See Be Yourself Post)

I knew I was hearing Truth when I realised Contemplation concerned not so much a quick-fix solution or a dogma, as a re-directing inwards of my attention and focus. It invites the fullness and impossibility of a situation to exist, and with it, the full vulnerability of Unknowing. In time, we gain tolerance for this vulnerability and this Unknowing, and a wonder at the harmony with which each new situation becomes resolved, too often in spite of us. This takes us beyond resilience.

One of the strange laws of the contemplative life is that in it you do not sit down and solve problems: you bear with them until they somehow solve themselves. Or until life itself solves them for you. Usually the solution consists in a discovery that they only existed insofar as they were inseparably connected with your own illusory exterior self. The solution of most such problems comes with the dissolution of this false self.

 Thomas Merton

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

Image courtesy of historicromance.wordpress.com 

A Christmas Wish

Rest
Let a quietude come upon you.
Take a breath and come into the present moment.
Put aside your cares, worries, frustrations and distractions.
Allow your current state to be as it is.
Have one long unhurried moment.
Forgive your failings. They're part of being human.
Be present to the Presence.
Let Silence nourish you.


This Christmas
Get out into nature. Walk. Run. Swim. Sit. Laugh. Play.
Share a moment of complete beauty with someone you love, and with someone new.
Let something impact you. Let someone inspire you. Let your Heart fill to overflowing.
Look for the Absolute in everyone. Recognise the Absolute in you.
Notice one magical happening. They’re all around you.
Silently help someone who may not even know they need it.
Forgive someone.

In the silent, still night, may the blessing of Jesus’ birth embrace you. 

And may Presence cause a thorough contentment in your Heart.



Image copyright Lucy Learns Ltd.

Be Yourself



This sign jumped out at me recently as I saw it outside a shop window. Ah! The relief of being ourselves. The comfort and happiness within when we are sitting naturally in our own skin.

We all have natural affiliations, gifts and tendencies, as well as personalities. Some of us are sprinters, some are long-distance athletes. Some of us are leaders, some encourage from within the ranks. Some run companies, others help unnoticed. Some are parents, some aren't. Some others devote their time to life's work and experience, others travel. Some are rich, poor, or somewhere in between. Some yearn to discover constant newness, others enjoy routine.

Some of us are chronically ill, some are hungry, tired. Some of us are in tremendous pain, others don't know this. Some of us are struggling, others are having breakthroughs. Some are despairing, others are allowing help to penetrate them. Some are calm, others are anxious. Some people are living in a war zone, others are peacefully unaware.

Some of us can read maps. Some of us can actually park a car! Some can bake the greatest cake on earth without even looking at a recipe. Some of us play music, some of us can hear it. Some of us can cajole and encourage. Some bring rest. Some can understand we are carrying a load, and some can lighten our load. Some allow us to have bad days, some allow themselves to have bad days. Some can inspire, some can teach, some of us can receive. Some can welcome. Some can fight for justice, some can forgive. Some of us are motivated, some others lethargic.

Some of us startle easily, some of us are restless. Some of us want to hide, some want to be seen. Some of us are larger than life, some of us are invisible. Some of us have endless doubt, some find faith in spite of it. Some of us are light-hearted, some of us wish we were.

We all get lost from time to time. We are all of the above, some of the time. Contemplation reveals our external world is always on the verge of entering a new phase of change, or just coming out of one. Some of us catalyse change, some of us soothe the effects of change. Some challenge, some accept. We need both.

The seasons of life bring inevitable change, but our inner natural Way is constant, like the background behind the changing landscape. A tree is always a tree, in spite of witnessing 4 seasons every year. It is deeply rooted. It is aware of a natural order occurring around it throughout the year. It does not cling to one season over another, wishing to prolong the summer, or prematurely end the winter. The Flow of Life knows what it is doing. The tree yields and bends with this Flow.

Where is our natural habitat? Outdoors in nature or in the middle of the busy urban environment? Meeting with a group of friends or family or walking silently though a quiet forest or by the deafening sea? Are we happier reading or talking, moving or stationary? Are we gardeners or designers? Are we builders or supporters? Are we teachers or students? Are we visionaries or conservationists? Are we old or young? Are we different or are we the same? Are we fresher in the morning or at night? What is our rhythm? How well do we know our natural Way? What do we need to come home to ourselves? What balances us and brings true contentment? Can we relax into our natural Way?

Know Yourself, and Be That - it's not only impossible, but exhausting, trying to be other than this. Find your roots. You are planted deeper than the seasonal changes of life. The Contemplative Way seeks to anchor you there.

"Go deeper than love, for the soul has greater depths,
love is like the grass, but the heart is deep wild rock
molten, yet dense and permanent.
Go down to your deep old heart, and lose sight of yourself." 

From "Know Thyself, Know Thyself More Deeply"
D.H. Lawrence