Being Present with guest artists and commentary

"Three Tongues," Suzanne Copleston.

Image used with gratitude & permission of the artist, copyright Suzanne Copleson, 2013.  All rights reserved. Please visit Ms. Copleston's website here to view more of her beautiful work.


Present Love

Let love come unbidden
  in each moment's unfolding,
  like petals that open up around our feet
  the instant we step upon the ground.

Let us meet others in the present--
  fresh,
         uncluttered--
  our hearts and minds reflecting
  Love's heart and mind.

Let us not diminish into
  small views and perceptions,
  but step into our fullness,
  shaking off the dust of fear,
  separation, and outcome.

We awake in present love.

Desire only to reside there,
  buoyed by awakened sisters and brothers,
  a circle of love that vibrates,
  rippling outward, in a

      constant now.



Guest Poet, Tina Karagulian from her collection Under the Papaya Tree, Black Rose Press, 2013.  "Present Love" used by permission of the poet.  All rights reserved.


Centering Prayer is one way of "waking in present love."  This method, taught by Fr. Thomas Keating, uses a centering word or phrase one chooses for the practice to bring the mind back to the present  and to the practice of contemplation.  I began to incorporate this method into my spiritual practice decades ago after reading Fr. Keating's book, Open Mind Open Heart.

Microcosmic focus on beauty is another way of being present and awake, as in this photograph.  The artist, Georgia O'Keefe is said to have stated (paraphrased) that no one sees a flower, really.  

In her poem, Ms. Karagulian urges us to "let love come unbidden."  This line is most interesting to me as I have spent a good amount of energy throughout my life calling love, seeking love, practicing unloving behavior and calling it love.  

In other words, being consumed by what is not Love, because as this poet suggests, Great Love comes unbidden.  It simply is.  

And it is fully present to us by grace when we awake.


D. Ellis Phelps

Guilt & Shame personified: a poem and commentary

"Shedding Shame," Katarina Silva 
image used with gratitude & permission of the artist,
copyright Katarina Silva, 2013
All rights reserved

Please visit Ms. Silva's website here to view more of her powerful work. 










Guest blogger and poet:
Kyndall Rae Renfro
with commentary by D. Ellis Phelps


Guilt, be slain, you false accuser,
ha-satan, retreat, you devil . . .
. . . or, might I show hospitality
to my enemy? Give welcome at the door?
What gift is hidden in your lurking
presence? None! None!
cries my wounded child, huddled in fear,
but, “Shh, shh, I will protect you from
our visitor, even as I feed him bread.”
I turn towards the intrusion,
I want you dead and gone!
But I look into your malevolent eyes instead
and wonder what you’ll teach me
as I refuse to cave under torment.
You were going to come in anyway;
might as well seat you at the table
where I can see and study
rather than be stabbed in the back.
Your lips curve in sinister smile,
but I have unnerved you, being so forward.
I will force you to speak clearly.
No sleepy whispers in black masks,
no sneaking in through bedroom window.
You will sit here in my lamp-lit rooms
and I will hear your case, unflinching.
In the inner folds of your long coat
there is a tiny but brilliant diamond.
I can tell by the way you finger the lining
of your gruff garment and by the stance
of your defensive posture that
though you’ve come to pillage and plunder,
you’ve got a prize of your own.
All the stealing intended to distract me
from noticing that what you are hiding
belongs to me. I recognize its glint.
Even through folds of fabric,
it lets off a shine–
it is the small and righteous truth,
searing as the sun, that shame
attempts to hide. It is the gift
of my own vulnerability; it is the treasure
of being who I am without any fear.
Friends: You do not have to bar the door or
wield a weapon; just out-trick the trickster, knowing,
Shame never visits your house
without a diamond in his trench coat.

               Kyndall Rae Renfro


A teacher once said (and I believe this), that guilt is a form of self-inflicted punishment that allows the “guilty” to continue some hurtful behavior (toward herself or another), that the feeling of guilt is a signal to cease that behavior and ask forgiveness (of the self or another).

I really struggled to grasp the meaning of this teaching. I learned, like you, that guilt is also a teacher and that I have much to learn from the experience of it.

After my current understanding of guilt as “permission to repeat hurtful behavior,” arrived, I made a vow to banish guilt from my life by amending my behavior. Yes, I had done some things to others for which I needed to ask their forgiveness, but most of the damage I had done (and sometimes continue to do), I did in the form of insidious self-destruction: Anorexia, alcohol and drug abuse, engagement in toxic relations and on and on and on. In my recovery, guilt is not welcome; only acknowledgement of a mistake made and a new intention to change the mistaken behavior. Over and over again. That is all.

             D. Ellis Phelps

Stillness: the best medicine

How rare.

Traffic chugs along in streams.  Sirens scream.  Dishes, children, ambitions demand attention. 

Our caffeine and adrenaline saturated blood surges through arterial rivers.  Daily news, daily chores, daily posts.

Behind heavy lids past midnight, minds wander the subconscious but we do not rest.  Our culture is hooked on doing, hooked on “connecting.”

Do we have more or less for all of this?  I say:  less. 

And deep social anxiety is the tragic outcome.

I received an email today from a prominent social change network that (paraphrased) said:  “We were hacked and shut down for several hours.  To be shut down for an entire day would be disastrous!”  Of course, they asked for a donation from conscious supporters to keep this from happening again.

Please, shut it down.  Please, let us all shut down.  Go outside.  Sit.  Dig our feet into the mud and lean hard against the trunk of the oak.  Listen and breathe.

what i learned today

that twenty minutes of contemplative prayer/meditation can completely relieve the perception of pain previously unrelieved by medication

Self-Ordained

                                                     

 

Several years ago, having discerned that following a traditional path to ordination as a Christian minister wasn't my path, I began to visualize a sanctuary space I wanted to create. I thought it would be a retail space where I would teach art classes, do energetic balancing, hold circle dances and sacred interfaith rituals, and create community while earning a living.

I busied myself finding a space and signing a lease for it (all with the avid resistance of Mr. Friendly, my spouse, who rarely supports new ventures of mine if they involve spending money). At that point, I did not have the state license I needed to do hands-on work with people. One way to satisfy that need was to apply online for ordination through the Universal Life Church, as ministers can do "laying on of hands." Reluctantly, I did this, but told no one, a part of me still desiring the approval of some organized, recognized entity like "the church" to sanctify my calling.

The lease for the space didn't work out, so I revisited my plan, thinking that road-blocks are Universal Guides to which I should pay attention (interestingly, I hadn't considered Mr. Friendly's resistance a road-block-this is a hint).

I have experienced, that when I am in Universal Flow, the way is clear and unobstructed.

So, I entered and graduated from massage school. This gave me the license I needed to do hands-on bodywork with people. As I prepared to take the state examination for my license, I began, again, to look for spaces near my home in which to establish the sanctuary I had been visualizing. For days, I'd driven round in circles, visited with business owners and landlords, and felt an uneasiness growing in my gut. I had no clientele and I had only a small financial seed, so signing a lease would have been risky at best. But I could SEE the space. I knew what I wanted.

After a few days of searching, out of the blue, I received a phone call from a dear friend. "By any chance, are you looking for a space?" she asked. I almost dropped the phone. She'd been called to a visioning ministry for a mission nearby and they were looking to share space with like-minded individuals. All I had to do was go get the key and agree to donate for the space as I could. Wow.

My practice grew, but slowly. The mission grew very little. Now they are relinquishing the space, and last week, I moved out of that space. I've been wondering how I will attract clients now. Wondering what this means?

I've decided that it just means not there. Not now. It means I have to trust the process again. It means there is more happening than I can see. I began to visualize people handing me one-hundred dollar bills as a practice of manifesting Abundant Supply, visualizing what I want to come into my experience, as I do need income.

Ask and you will receive (even if you don't know how).

So I cleared out my studio space at home and brought my practice home. Mr. Friendly and I are learning to share space in a more profound way than we have in thirty years.

A few days ago, another therapist I'd met two years ago who remembered me, called. I hadn't spoken to her since we met. She is moving out of state and needs a therapist to whom she can recommend her small clientele and wondered if I'd be interested.

Wow!

She came to my studio yesterday to experience my work. She felt well as she left and I think she'll refer to me. Who knows what will happen? Choosing a therapist is a very personal thing. And what about the sanctuary I've been visualizing?

One of the things that passed through my hands during the process of packing, unpacking, relinquishing, and clearing over the passed few weeks is a poem my mother wrote to me when I first opened Moon Shadow Sanctuary in the space I just lost. I thought then that the piece was about that place.

Now, the poem sits on the altar here in my very own studio, a place I've had all along. But now I read the poem much differently. Now I do not read it to be about a place I had to find. It is not about place at all. Instead, I read it to be about living in the sanctuary of Spirit, the sanctuary of knowing that the Universe brings me all that I need in perfect timing. The sanctuary of knowing that the Universe answers the "prayers of my heart" and that even when I don't understand what I'm asking for, or know the healing I need, Omniscience does know and Spirit heals. The sanctuary of knowing that I am co-creating my world (be careful what you think) and that what I visualize, does materialize, always shape-shifted by Spirit to serve the Highest Good.

Here am I
Just as I was dreamed
So lovely
A quiet place
A place to be still and know
A place to Be
The Real Me of You.

Only You are needed
To call forth my Spirit
From my window
To inherit the
Shade of my Tree.

In silence
Come unto me

Beth Ellis Grimes, '07