When I turned fifty I did a ten-day silent retreat at the Benedictine monastery at Snowmass, Colorado, an immersion in a Christian form of meditation called Centering Prayer. The retreat was hard. At 5:15 a.m., under a black bowl of stars, I trekked a quarter mile up an icy hill banked by snow, huffing from …
At my daughter’s swim lesson a few years ago, an enthusiastic teacher stood hip-deep in the pool with a plastic clipboard, laminated sheet, and wax pencil. The eight-year-olds water-wheeled by, chins awkwardly raised above the surface in desperate attempts to doggy paddle their way through the crawl. As they passed he shouted, “Relax! Relax! Relax!” …
Through November and December, each night’s darkness clamps a degree tighter. Much as my rational brain knows I have a critical role to play in creation, I can’t explain my way out of despair. I am nothing. I am dust, a wisp of Elizabeth, here then gone. How can I carry on?
Four years ago, shortly after Trump’s inauguration, my neighbor slapped a bumper sticker on her car that read, “He’s not my president!” The dismissive, liberal sentiment has rankled me ever since. I was reminded of it two weeks ago, when white supremacists attacked the capitol at Trump’s urging, and the message “This is not who …
We are each a jewel in a mighty net. When we are unaware of this, disasters like the pandemic happen. When we are aware and bring whole, open hearts to our common plight, the net sparkles.
Sure I want the thrill of traveling, the relief of a break from Covid monotony, the fun of loved ones’ company, and the delicious feast, but at the core what I long for is the exchange of love that comes so easily when we’re together.
“No justice, no peace” is a metaphysical statement, a irreducible truth that describes how the world functions, with no exceptions. If a society is unjust, it is never peaceful.
The question that presses at me daily now is this: Will I allow myself to be changed for the better by this pandemic? Today? Even
So what can we do? We can accept these limits. We can release, again and again, our needs for security, affection, and control. We can embrace this moment as it is, fully welcoming the wisdom of the body, because in our fear and sadness and anger hides our immense love for this world, and that’s where divinity enters.
