Volume 33, No. 1-Winter, 2009
Table of Contents
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A Simple Sufficiency
Listening in to my Soul Song
On Being a Singing Bowl at Work
"Waking up" at the SSA
Composting our Lives
Parenting: A Sacred Path
Stepping out into Nothing
The Luxury of Loss |
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A Simple Sufficiency
by Bill Dietrich
Some years ago, I heard a story (possibly apocryphal) about the CEO of a rapidly-growing company who suggested to his board of directors that his company's profits had become high enough. Within a short time the CEO was forced out by the board. The message of this parable was clear: for corporate leaders in our Darwinian economy, the mandate is to make ever greater profits or perish. It is no wonder, then, that pressures to meet such expectations can result in a moral and spiritual crisis for many business leaders, or that many succumb to the culture of "anything goes" in the name of capitalism distorted by greed.
I've been reminded of this story recently as we've watched our economy crumble into a morass of burst market bubbles and collapsed financial institutions. The examples of greed and deception are all too public and too numerous to name. The resulting damage to both our and the global economy is unprecedented. All of us have been or will be affected by the fallout.
As I reflect on how to respond to these events, I've been drawn to the life and example of John Woolman, the colonial American Quaker (1720-1772). Woolman is perhaps best known for his tireless efforts to abolish slavery. But his works on behalf of the poor were just as significant, as was his deep insight into the root causes of economic injustice. He came by his insights in part through his own experience as a businessman. In his early 20s he began tending shop and keeping books for a merchandiser in Mount Holly, NJ. By all accounts he was quite adept at his business and soon learned tailoring to augment his retailing experience. Within a few years he had started his own business.
Woolman was precocious in the ways of the Spirit and insightful as to human weakness. He saw very early the need to balance his business pursuits with his desire to live a life given to Divine Truth. Writing in his now-famous Journal, he describes being called to "...pursue worldly business no further than as Truth opened my way therein...to be content with real conveniences that were not costly, so that a way of life free from much entanglements appeared best for me, though the income was small...."
He came to understand that the seductions of success and the pursuit of wealth and luxuries underlay many of the social ills of his time. "I saw that...where the heart was set on greatness, success in business did not satisfy the craving, but that in common with an increase of wealth the desire of wealth increased."
By age 36 Woolman was married with a young daughter, and his retailing had grown large and profitable. But he struggled to maintain balance with the demands of business which "...became my burden, for though my natural inclination was towards merchandise, yet I believe Truth required me to live more free from outward cumber...." Thereafter he resolved to let go of retailing altogether and to support his family through tailoring and tending a small apple orchard "...that nothing might hinder me from the most steady attention to the voice of the True Shepherd."
Foundational to Woolman's life and thought were the principles of simplicity and sufficiency. While not opposed to capitalism or success in business, he decried the pursuit of wealth and ease beyond what was truly needed. Such excesses, he could see, ultimately disadvantaged others and impoverished one's spirit. Woolman scholar Phillips Moulton writes: "Simple living by the individual was a corollary of his economic theory: God had so ordered the universe that the needs of all would be met insofar as each person was guided by universal love to seek only what he really required." Sufficiency for all begins with each one of us letting go of what we don't really need.
Our word simplicity derives from the Latin sine plexus, literally "without folds" or unfolded, like a cloth laid out flat. A simple life is plain, unadorned, open and accessible, where nothing is hidden. We might contrast this with an origami figure formed from a piece of paper elaborately folded in the shape of some beautiful object. As beautiful as it might appear, it is ultimately unreal, an illusion, just paper masquerading as what it is not.
In graced moments I'm able to see the elaborate folds of my own lifestyle, where all the unrealities and insufficiencies are hidden from plain sight. All the little compromises I've made testify to how I've bought into the illusions our culture tells me are "necessary." I suspect we could all name many examples of conveniences we've come to consider essential: answering machines, computers, cell phones, PDAs, home theaters, iPods, cars with DVD players and GPS navigators, etc. How can we live without them? But can we live with them and still attend wholly to the life of Truth? What is "really required" to meet our needs much less those of our national and global community?
If Woolman were alive today, I wonder what he might consider the "real conveniences that are not costly" of our day? What might he teach us about what "enough" is and how our consumerism relates to the current condition of our economy, how our lifestyle choices have consciously or unconsciously contributed to our current economic predicament? It takes effort, and some modicum of grace, to look at life deeply and see the truth of our situation as Woolman saw it in his day. This is the contemplative insight for which I pray. In these times of radical re-appraisal of our priorities, may we all ask for the grace to see clearly how to make our lives simple and sufficient.
Listening in to my Soul Song
by Katy Gaughan
I was given a gift this year: to lead my first-ever retreat. Through an associate of the Spiritual Guidance Program, I was asked to lead a group of women through a weekend of drumming and spiritual introspection, centered around the theme "Soul Song: Healing Rhythms of Life."
Not only was I leading the weekend, I was also asked to design the retreat, create a healing ritual, and offer a solo concert! While I've been drumming and facilitating drum circles for 10 years, never had I been asked to do all these things in one event, by myself! Usually I have a partner or a team, or I am supporting the lead facilitator. What an exciting challenge this would be!!
The gift was multi-dimensional...and only God can craft such an amazing unfolding of events. It was as if God had been nudging me for many years to step into leadership, but I had been resisting. Now God was giving me a "good ol' shove" and couldn't have given me a nicer group of women to gently grow with.
Carol Topping, who experienced her first drum circle at the SGP residency, was so taken by the drumming that she immediately called her ministry partner, Debbie Baker, and told her they needed to bring drumming to their retreat work. They are part of the Gay Street United Methodist Church in Mount Vernon, Ohio. Their ministry is Hope Springs: Ministries for the Journey, and every fall they host a women's weekend retreat.
We met through phone calls, and gradually I began to get to know these women and get an idea of what this weekend would be like. Every step of the way, Debbie and Carol offered guidance and invitations to what their hopes would be for the weekend, and at the same time gave me lots of room to come up with my own ideas.
My Shalem roles - as registrar for the Spiritual Guidance Program and webmaster - involve pretty much administrative work. And even though I strive to bring prayer into my work process, it's like my task-oriented drive doesn't want to let up for one second to pause ... listen ... and invite God into my work.
Yet I knew, early on with the retreat, that my offering to these women was really about listening for what God wanted to give them. So, I did just that. I brought prayer into my planning and creative process. I asked God for guidance and listened. And listened. And waited. And trusted. And prepared. And created. And listened. And practiced. And played. And drummed. And listened. And prayed. And delivered!
The main message that I got to offer these women was the invitation for them to listen in for their own soul song. We all have a unique sound thumbprint - each of us is made of molecules that, in their essence, are vibrating. As the particles vibrate, they each vibrate in a way that is unique to us. So, literally, we all have our own sound...but can we hear it? Can we hear it amidst the din of our life? And how can we learn to hear it more? Well, by listening!
Drumming is actually the perfect experience for listening. As I tell people, drumming is one part playing and two parts listening. Without listening to one another, the loud sounds of the drums can quickly become chaos and noise. But when we listen, we play together because we can hear the beat, we can hear how our individual voices can contribute harmoniously to the whole.
The drum is one of the oldest instruments on our planet. It has been a powerful instrument for communication and spiritual practice for thousands of years. We are just rediscovering rhythm and drumming in our culture, and it is taking off - especially with women. I love being part of this new awakening, because the drum connects us with ourselves, each other, and opens us up through the joy of drumming together to connect with Love, Spirit, God.
So, throughout the weekend, I reminded the women to come back to their prayer and listen in for their soul song...listen in for God's invitation in their life...listen.
We drummed and learned about the healing rhythms of life; we sang songs, and released our sorrows and joys on the drum; we played and prayed together with the drum. I witnessed the transformation in these women, from Friday night being very shy with the drum, to Sunday morning when they started drumming on their own, without me! Sunday morning was World Communion Sunday, and after we all had communion, we drummed. One woman in her sixties said as we came to a close, "That was good."
But most importantly, we listened. We listened to ourselves, to each other and to God. On Sunday morning I asked the women to share what they "heard" about their soul song. The sharing made us all cry, and one woman even sang a song she wrote about her mother and grandmother and the beauty of being a woman.
It was a fabulous weekend - God inspired and truly a gift. It went so well that I could never have planned it to be so perfect. I trusted and followed where I was led, from the beginning to the continual unfolding. I look forward to whatever God has in store for me and trust that if I continue to listen, I will hear God's call.
Katy offers her drumming ministry through Music Heals Us (www.musicheals.us).
On Being a Singing Bowl at Work
by Kit Turen
I am a Singing Bowl!
This insight came to me at my first Personal Spiritual Deepening Program (PSDP) Residency as a member of the PSDP Class of 2009. As the bowl was struck, I literally resonated with the realization that, like the singing bowl, my "tone" first reverberates within me and then in my nearby energetic field and finally ripples out to become a widening, yet silent vibration. Like a singing bowl, I am a multiphonic instrument and my tone has an impact even when it is, or seems to be, silent. And at this point in life, I find it inspiring how the tone of a singing bowl improves with age.
So the singing bowl is a meaningful metaphor for how I strive to be present in my service at Shalem. As Shalem's short program registrar, I interact with program participants, all of our in-office staff, short program leaders, regional staff, board members, volunteers and staffers from various venues. And given that I am the first person someone encounters upon entering Shalem's office, I also see myself as Shalem's threshold keeper, each day welcoming staff, visitors and delivery and repair folks. In both roles, I seek to be a positive and helpful presence. ("Make a joyful noise onto the Lord"... in addition to singing bowls, I find ABBA and dancing helps with this.)
Remembering the ripples of the singing bowl's vibration helps me seek to be a positive threshold keeper even on days when I feel upset or fatigued. And "seeking" can be the operative word. For of course there are times when I just plain clang and clang, rather than sing. Yet even when I feel, and act, discordant, my singing bowl metaphor is still helpful. For singing bowls can also be dissonant, sounding an unappealing clang that emits an uncomfortable vibration. It is part of the nature of a singing bowl to respond to how it is struck. But unlike a singing bowl, I often react to situations rather than simply (if only it were so simple) respond.
A lovely aspect of singing bowl etiquette is "invitation." The bowl invites us to play it. We are to listen for the bowl's invitation and attune to it. To me, this reflects a central contemplative value: that G-d is always inviting me to turn towards G-d.
Singing bowls can also serve as mindfulness bells. Their sound draws us to be in the present moment, a helpful reminder to me - as long as I remember! My mind and my imagination are often creating stories (some of which qualify as dramas) around the past and the future. And when I do find myself in a drama, I can use those feelings as a mindfulness bell to be aware of my distress, take a step back and turn toward G-d: another opportunity to become present to the Presence.
Some Tibetan stories say that singing bowls are tools for transformation of self and matter. Not surprisingly, I agree.
I am a Singing Bowl!
"Waking up" at the SSA
by Martha Campbell
It was a task I had put off for years, and I promised myself that this would be the week I would make time in my schedule to attend to my business at the Social Security Administration (SSA). Actually, I had anticipated the bureaucracy involved, so I made some phone calls to prepare myself for all the "red tape" that was certain to be involved. What I dreaded to hear, I heard. Yes, things had gotten more stringent since 9/11 and most probably a court order would be involved which would involve a wait of six months and a costly fee. I was frustrated by the news and irritated with myself for putting off this business for so long. However, I was told that the officials at the local office had the final say on which documents would be required for my transaction. I decided to gather all the information I could...and hope for the best!
It was one of those spring days you hope for as a gardener. The downpour began just as I got out my travel map, trusting that I would find the office in the maze of suburban side streets in this suburban area unknown to me. I donned my umbrella, my documentation and my courage. I had business to do! God help me - and those involved.
Entering the SSA office, I was shocked by the number of people waiting for assistance, even at this early hour. I greeted the security guard, took my service number and began my wait beside a man so large his frame barely fit in the scant chair provided. Business was being conducted by two officials behind the counters, and one of them gave some disappointing news to a male customer who reacted in hostile argumentation. As he protested the "run around" he was receiving, his voice escalated to fever pitch. His resistance led to repeated efforts on the part of the male official to explain that the situation was "out of his hands" and that more time was needed for paper work to arrive from another office.
The man refused to wait, stating that he had waited six weeks already. He would not take "no" for an answer. This exchange had gone on for several minutes and the cadre of customers, myself included, became noticeably agitated. I was particularly aware of the man beside me. His breathing increased and became heavier. I became frightened. Where was the security guard? In an instant the man next to me leapt to the scene of the disagreement and went face to face with the first angry man. "If you don't shut up and take 'no' for an answer, I'm gonna punch you out. You are wasting my time and everyone else's!" The scene was escalating and the security guard took action, but to no avail.
In the midst of this fray, a slight middle-aged woman was interrupting the second official behind the counter. "When you call my mother, please speak to her directly. She is hard of hearing. She does understand English, but unless you speak to her directly, she will not hear you. I must leave for work." No one seemed to be listening, and the woman left her mother, one among many waiting for service.
Now the security guard was threatening force to persuade the first angry man to leave the building. "I'll call 911 if you don't leave," he shouted. With this, a young female official came out from behind the counter. She was half the size of the second angry man and she stood between the two of them. In a gentle voice, she encouraged the first man, "Will you please come with me, sir?" With this simple and respectful intervention, the second man returned to his seat and the first, accompanied by the gentle official, went to the vestibule and quietly left the building as if shocked into acquiescing.
What was this scene taking place before me? No, what was this scene taking place in me? For, in an instant, this is what I experienced: I could so identify with the anger of the first man and the "bureaucratic red tape" and with the second angry man, irritated with myself for waiting so long, a wait that resulted in more "red tape." I also was the woman wanting to attend to her mother's needs but helpless to go the extra mile to assure accomplishment of the task as I tried to calm my inner tensions...and the security guard thinking that I could bring about peace by force, wanting to take charge and put an end to my interior fray. And was I not the helpless male official as well, using reason when emotion had taken hold, and the gentle female official, who with a simple gesture of respect put an end to the disturbance?
In an instant, it all came together. Revelation! I felt immense compassion for each one, for in a very real sense I was each one. The drama taking place in the SSA was a mirror of my inner experience, which came to a screeching halt when I witnessed my inner drama being played before me. I chuckled out loud. More calm and accepting, more gentle and compassionate, I was still pondering my experience as my number was called. I was waited on by the gentle woman official who required no "red tape," who accepted my documentation and who sent me home with the simple assurance that my business had been resolved. That day I learned that even "red tape" can be the source of enlightenment. You just have to show up...and be ready for the "wake up" call when it comes!
Composting our Lives
by Rose Mary Dougherty
Several years ago, I was participating in a retreat that was part of a program for hospice caregivers. During the retreat we were to spend one day outdoors in the surrounding wooded area. Our instructions were to go outdoors, follow a path as far as we thought we should, and then settle ourselves in the place where we stopped, to be taught by nature for the day.
Simple enough, so I thought - ample space for each of us to find our resting place of solitude. And so I started out, going in a direction slightly different from others, following a path that I thought would take me into the woods. Wrong. I hadn't gone far at all until I realized that I had walked into a fenced-in area not too far from the retreat house. "Well," I said to myself, "I guess this is my spot." And I added a bit skeptically, "I wonder what there is to learn here." Then I looked down over the hill and saw many of my confreres already ensconced in various spaces of a beautifully wooded area and felt a bit of envy. "But," I said again, "this is my spot, and I'm sticking to it." So I sat down on a plot in the corner and began to look at the grass and the weeds, wanting to see what there was to see.
In a very short time, I felt something pecking at my seat. I thought I had sat on a briar, but when I turned to look, it was a chicken on the other side of the fence seemingly letting me know that she wasn't too happy that I was invading her space. And so began my inquiry to the chicken: "Ok! We're both here with a fence between us. What do you want to teach me?" The chicken finally settled down and stopped pacing. I began to learn something about the mutuality of respect among created beings and the possibility of peaceful co-existence when none of us considered ourselves superior to the other. I thought that was to be my lesson for the day. And I heaved a sigh of gratitude that my time would not be wasted.
Then I looked to the other side of me and saw the huge compost pile. Each day I had seen people from the kitchen going outside with scraps from the table and other garbage, but I had no idea where they were going with it. Now I knew!
I sat for a few minutes laughing at my fate - wedged between a chicken coop and a compost pile! How lucky could one be! But then as I moved closer to the compost pile, I began observing the variety of colors in it, the little spurts of life, its innate beauty, and I was reminded of a line I had read in Ursula Hegi's book, Stones From The River: "Shards glinted among the moss and weeds that sprouted from the rubble - beauty pressing through debris." I realized that I wasn't just seeing waste. I was seeing something rich and beautiful. I was seeing the slow but sure process of the transformation of that which seemed to be but waste. That was my lesson for the day, perhaps for my life.
My experience with the compost pile has stayed with me through the years. In fact, the compost pile itself has become a metaphor for my life/our lives. There is a difference though. The compost of our lives includes not only the debris of seeming failure and discounted experience; it includes the moments of community, love, compassion, service. In short, all of life becomes the fertile ground of transformation. Nothing wasted, nothing lost; all transformable in the alchemy of grace and willingness; buds of the new, of the beautiful showing through it all. We need only wait, trusting that as with the compost pile, all we need for life is right here now, that life is in the waiting as well as the seeing.
The poet, Kelly Averill Savino reminds us that "gifts come to those who allow for the unexpected." I might say that gifts are seen by those who allow for the unexpected. My prayer and my hope would be to see the gift in all; to live the words in the Constitutions of my religious community, the School Sisters of Notre Dame, "Awed by the mystery of God's action in our midst, we gratefully celebrate life;" to celebrate in confidence, every part of life, all of our lives - no exclusions; to see the shards of life bursting forth in the compost of what has been and what is now.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
What To Do With Regrets
by Kelly Averill Savino
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I.Winter
II.Spring
My religion
The whole wheat loaf of homemade |
Mistakes. Bad timing.
III. Redemption
and Nature, benevolent with forgiveness
or a chunk of discarded potato
if tomato seeds eaten by chickens return to
it's no longer the haunt of regret:
hope is perennial
Used by permission of the author, |
Parenting: A Sacred Path
A Reflection Booklet for Personal or Group Use
by Patience Robbins
When my daughter was three, I searched for ways to integrate my spirituality with my experience of parenting. There was little written that was helpful. There were lots of books on parenting skills, information about raising children and teaching children about God, but I was looking for something that addressed what was going on in me. Parenting was much more challenging than any spiritual practice that I had encountered or considered. It was the most selfless, eye-opening discipline that I had ever experienced. I never could have foreseen this. As one who had been on an intentional spiritual journey for over 15 years, life with a daughter threw me totally out of whack; I seemed to have lost my sense of direction toward God. So I lived with the question: Where is God in the midst of all of this?
This question of the spirituality of parenting weighed on my heart and mind. After much prayer, I began to invite others to explore this theme with me in small group settings. I led many groups and workshops on this topic at Shalem from 1994 through 2000. Parenting: A Sacred Path was born out of that prayerful work: courageous parents who shared together honestly and openly in small groups. Through prayer, reflection and silence certain themes emerged that resonated with all of us. How supportive and healing it was to be together, share in a safe environment what we were noticing about our experience, and open all of it to God. After leading groups on the spirituality of parenting for a few years, my work evolved to lead workshops and retreats around other themes. I carefully and lovingly shelved all my notes on parenting and spirituality, with great affection for all those who had shared so meaningfully and deeply with me in these circles.
About a year ago, while attending a Shalem board of directors meeting, I felt the inspiration to take the collection of notes off the shelf and share these reflections with a broader community. And so my booklet came into being. Each step seemed to emerge as I had no clue how to go about this. I am utterly amazed at the number of people who came forward to assist me in this venture and the prayers that surrounded me. It is truly a testament to community and the work of the Spirit within and among us.
As I was recalling themes, stories, quotes, and prayers that we included in our sessions, the many participants who came to these groups at Shalem would come to my heart. We never know how we impact others and what will come of our willingness to share what is deep and true in our lives.
I am truly grateful for how Shalem has nurtured and supported a contemplative heart in so many people and how hungry others are for this particular way of viewing parenting. It is my sincere hope and prayer that this booklet can be a source of deepening love for God, oneself, one's children, and that it will overflow with great blessing for all the world.
To order a copy visit Shalem's web site, www.shalem.org.
Stepping out into Nothing
by Martha Sherman
Last June, after months of prayer and pondering, listening for God and guidance, I made the decision to resign from Shalem as office manager and finance director. Although the initial decision was personal, once it was made and the process of transition was begun, it also seemed clear that it would be good for Shalem to have a new voice in that role. So on October 10, after nearly three years, I worked my last day as a full-time staff member.
Now I have no "day job," my house is being sold, and I have no idea what comes next. I definitely like the idea of being completely free, but I am learning that it is not familiar or culturally acceptable unless one is about 18 or 22 and in possession of a new degree of some sort; even then, the pressure to quickly and productively fit oneself into a slot is enormous. I am questioned constantly about what I am doing - in truth, some part of me regularly asks that question of myself.
Periodically, a bit of worry does come up. But every time, I go back to how it all started and know that moving on felt very invited. All I have to do now is trust, stay open and empty, listen and wait, "expectantly, without expectation," as Jerry May advises.
Last July, in a prayer session, the desire to sky-dive came up. Never before, not for one second of my previous 55 1/2 years, had I ever had a conscious thought about sky-diving. But, trusting that inspired thought (after all, I was praying), on August 3, I found myself getting strapped to an instructor and spending 20 minutes climbing to 10,000 feet to experience three minutes falling and floating back to the ground. Through it all, I had no feelings or thoughts of fear - not even signing the six separate disclaimers.
But, there was one moment of hesitation as I realized it was going to take a very real intention and expenditure of effort to get my body out of the plane into the 120 mph wind that we were generating. Since I was strapped to the instructor and he was stronger than I and he was going, out I went. And in that one moment of uncertainty, as I reached my right leg and foot out onto a footrest in the clouds, came the thought: "I am stepping out into nothing - absolutely Nothing."
Back on the ground, I recalled that moment and the moment of pure bliss that followed as we somersaulted backwards off the plane. In that moment of utter calm and purity, the whole universe was visible and clear, beautiful and available before me, and the second thought came to me: "I stepped out into Everything."
So that is what this time is for me right now - strapped to the Instructor, I have stepped into Nothing and I have stepped into Everything. This time is filled with mystery and all possibilities. I am both excited and uncertain about everything. Right now, I am in a position to know it and live into it in a way that "having a job" can mask.
And for all this - the prayer, the trust, these right-now Present moments of Nothing/Everything, the knowledge that I am still and always have been strapped to the Instructor - I can only thank God for leading me to Shalem and the beautiful souls I encountered there on staff, the beautiful-soul-participants in every program, and the opening and expanding of my contemplative heart that has followed.
Martha is a graduate of Shalem's Personal Spiritual Deepening Program and a former Shalem staff person. She would love to hear from you if you feel so moved: This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .
The Luxury of Loss
by CeCe Balboni
"Don't believe everything you think," is something Buddhist teacher Pema Chodron teaches students in meditation classes. What a great piece of Wisdom. It has brought me back to the Present Moment from the brink of many future trips. As 2008 becomes 2009 and we inaugurate a new president and continue to face the economic, environmental and global situations that define this present moment in history, I have noticed myself consciously choosing to return to that Wisdom. There is no particular comfort in not believing everything I may be thinking, or really fretting about. But I am given back moments of freedom and the possibility of love, creativity, joy, or just pure caring when mind clatter is lightened up. I am brought home to the Holy where the tender Presence of God's care invites me to stay and live among others in that Presence.
Funny things happen there. Surprising things. I realize that what I have considered as loss may be luxury. Can that be - luxury in loss? But this paradox continues to manifest itself to me. Luxury in this case means those things which are desirable, expensive and difficult to obtain according to the Oxford English Dictionary. It does not refer to things inessential as luxury often does.
What seems to be occurring is that Old Testament notion of separating the precious from the vile found in Jeremiah. Listening to others, I hear this notion stated more in the vernacular: "This is an economic reboot," or a cultural or a political reboot. The underlying hope is that we are going to start over and get things right this time. Maybe this reboot will clear out what has been hanging us up and making our course jagged and interrupted. Maybe. It is an opportunity. Maybe what a reboot does is purify. If we are on a course of purification, then something really is happening.
So when and where is this "precious" manifesting? Collecting for a charity, the cash came out of the pockets of the youth quickly and generously with comments like, "Why should I get another sweater at Goodwill when some have none?" An indication of a purified recognition of sharing, charity.
And where else? The store down the street is going out of business. This place has been a regular stop for me for more than 10 years for gifts, clothes and what my friend calls yuppie bric-a-brac. It is closing and I am about to experience saving money by not spending it instead of saving money by spending it on discounted items I don't need. Possibly a purified definition of saving money?
And in this store are the workers whose daily bread has depended on their paychecks. I asked a man who has been there only a short time how he was. He only said, "Thank you for being concerned." Sure we connected for a moment, but the situation asks more than that. Creativity, charity, compassion, consciousness is being called forth. Fretting is a merciless distraction. Caring often means suffering and hopefully has associated choice and action indicated.
These are two small examples of what might be going on at deeper levels. We are evaluating our choices because we have become conscious of having less and of others having less. Conscious living is the human venture. In the paradoxically privileged place of loss so common to everyone from Wall Street to Main Street, we are being allowed to see how we matter, how we count, how our choices really do make a difference. The bigger questions of life are being refreshed and emerging. People are asking about what enough means, what really sustains us and others. People are asking spiritual questions.
Parker Palmer, a good friend of Shalem, was recently interviewed on Speaking of Faith by Krista Tippett. In his interview, in the series Repossessing Virtue, Parker identifies how a society can evaluate itself - "not by how well the strongest are doing but by how well a society takes care of its weakest." He speaks of non-violence as having our "caring evoked." And he speaks of this caring at the most local level: right in front of us - in the ways that are given to us to respond.
Reflecting, I am not bold enough to say what I want - I have to be funny and link loss to luxury. Really, I am so dependent on the God I cannot see but trust a little to draw me and my culture into Love. Grateful for the traditional Wisdom that helps me discern the precious from vile and guides me with low light to right action, I can stay and go forth. Fretting yields to openness. And a prayer emerges: You guide, show me the way today and please remember all in their hunger and loss. And thank You for means to make a difference. Reveal those means to each of us. Amen.