These Entries from a hand-written journal I kept during a trip to New York City and the days surrounding the trip. The word Oysara is a reference to a C.S. Lewis novel called “Out of the Silent Planet” in which Lewis imagines that individual locations (even entire planets) have A spirit associated with them; almost a soul. These spirits call themselves Oysaras.
“Create a space, an EMPTY space where abandonment can show up.”
I don’t know if this morning was a successful creation of an empty space or not – but I got out of bed when I COULD hace stayed and instead of going to group (an often “flat” experience) I set out for somewhere un-known.
I wound up at the restaurant that reminds me of my childhood- the diner sort of place we would eat all three meals a day at while on vacation. Always a special place.
I’m full, and yet I have a powerful urge to force the rest of the food into my face.
The cheerful sounds of servers greeting morning regulars echoes. Talk of roses, gas prices, traffic and pies in the oven. God lives here. “Grab a seat, Frank!”
Hiding / addictive behavior is the excuse to keep what’s hiding hidden. What’s hiding wants to talk. It wants to say it’s pain. It’s the little boy. He wants to speak. How do I get him to speak? What must I do to allow him to speak? To act, to live, to live as God intends him to live – as a son, not a slave.
The Examen Prayer:
The point today when I felt the most love – loved – the moment for which I was most grateful:
Telling stories to Matt S. – praying with him – hearing him express a sense of excitement – anticipation, resonance with what I was saying. I was being me, and he was responding – God was at the center and it was real – not “put on” – at least not much.
I won’t be ashamed. I am grateful, Lord for the moment of feeling used, of experiencing usefulness. I simply pray that you would continue to purify it.
The point at which I felt the lowest, the most drained:
When Bob told me about rehearsal being poor last night – when I became aware that I would have to deal with Jerry – that perhaps he – or others – were upset with me for “leaving” them. I was NOT grateful.
Mostly, I want to try out this new pen…but I also want to mark this day an em-battled day. Old insecurities erupt and spread their disease all over me.
Even if my greatest fears come true, the question is: what does it sat about me? The insecurities arrive. Save me, Jesus.
What a strange experience. Alick talks about mass; being near things that have “a lot of molecules”. One experiences more of creation when one is near more of creation.
There is a lot of it here. It’s truly massive. It’s tight and thick. It goes up and out.
So many windows, made to open onto the only thing bigger than the city.
Windows illustrate the imperfection of our creativity. We build something – then make holes in it to let the stink out and the light in.
Decay comes from inside. Hope from outside. There is so much of both here. So much in and so much out.
Still – so much beauty.
There is definitely an Oyarsa in NY. There is an Oyarsa NAMED NY. He is different than anything else I have ever felt.
I am surprised that as busy as he must be – he has reached out to touch me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m somehow unique – or if every visitor gets this “greeting”. I never felt the Oyarsa of Brazil. Maybe he doesn’t speak English.
The neediness I feel for God this morning is sharp, achy. I am needy this morning – co-dependent. I can’t think for myself. I want to be a blind follower. I’m sure Doug M. and others imagine that Christinas feel like this ALL the time. The truth is: I don’t. Truth is I don’t care for this feeling at all.
So many languages. So many tongues. So many nations visiting New Rome.