Tag Archives: Idenity

February 10th – February 24th, 2006

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.

February 23rd, 2006

…and AGAIN with the timing! While I recognize references to stillness, solitude and silence in earlier entries (Alick frequently brought-up these ideas in our meetings) this is the first entry that presents a fully rounded idea, connects it to a traditional practice (even though a MOVIE serves as the connective tissue!) and begins to truly seize my attention. That this pull toward the monastic was underway while I was unwittingly wandering into  circumstances that would REQUIRE something like a monastic practice in order to survive, is cause for worship.

It makes me think of how a pregnant woman’s body begins to prepare for the upcoming birth without her consent and sometimes even without her knowledge. Life will find a way, it will prepare its own way, and it will find its way into the world even with violence.

“What if burdens were proportional to the galaxy? Two galaxies can pass right through one another, and no two atoms would collide – there’s that much SPACE within them.”

What if?

Well – my first and most obvious thought is that burdens become irrelevant. They become a non-entity – without substance.

Francis of Assisi responded to his buddy who said, “I want to help you…” by saying,  “Words…there was a time when I believed in words….”

I love that line. Something about the film making in that moment (Brother Sun Sister Moon) really drove home the point that Francesco had been truly freed from the burden of words, of ideas even. It’s like he dipped his toe back into the substance of burdens just long enough to give his friend a clue – “Don’t SAY you want to help me…that is meaningless. It’s a burden that you feel – and that burden is 99.99% hollow. It has no substance. Instead – actually help me.

Later –when listening to another friend wax quite eloquently, honestly and at length about the burden of his existential angst…Francesco doesn’t seem to be listening…at least not in the way we’re taught to listen.

His response was simply to ask his friend to donate a stone to his church re-building project. His friend seemed to see in Francesco’s detachment – an answer. HE saw one who was living in the space between the burdens.

The lyrics to the song say:

“If you want to live life free, take your time, go slowly. Day by day, stone by stone, build your secret slowly. Day by day, you’ll grow too, you’ll see heavens’ glory. Do few things, but do them well, take your time, go slowly.”

Silence. Stillness. Slowly.

I have a fight on my hands.