Be still and know.

Here's a thought for the day that I thought was worth sharing:

I create a pool of inner quiet through meditation and contemplation. I create a place of peace within me that I can call on throughout my day. I give myself time to sense the meaning of my life. Unless my mind slows down, I will not be still enough to know through direct experience. I will not have the inner peace to come in touch with deeper and deeper layers of self. If I accumulate and accomplish all that I set out to but lose my ability to enjoy, then I have bought into a fool's paradise. Then I will simply be surrounded by riches that I am unable to appreciate. I will take good care of myself today. I recognize that an important part of taking good care of myself is to give myself the quiet time I need and deserve in order to be happy.

I give myself the quiet I need.

For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?  Mark 8:36-37

Time for a wee quiet lurk with God, I think.

A thought on meditation and reflection.

From a slightly unexpected source:

"You do not leave your room. Remain sitting at your table and listen. Do not even listen, simply wait. Do not even wait. Be quite still and solitary. The world will freely offer itself to you to be unmasked, it has no choice, and it will roll in ecstasy at your feet."  Franz Kafka

Quite as good as  Anthony De Mello or Mother Theresa. And beautifully succinct!

Meditations on a Brussels Sprout.

Christmas is a-coming! Wet snow is falling (and even lying) and yes, I caught myself tra-la-laaing "Chestnuts roasting on an open fire" at the sink after breakfast (and wondering if it was the Spanish Inquisition's favourite Christmas ditty?). Tonight is the Emmaus House "feed the Benedictine groupies" night and turkey and stuff are on the menu. Due to one of the gang of 3 being yukky with some foul lurgie gained whilst visiting the sick in hospital, I am senior veg peeler and shopper for the day and found myself peeling a pile of fiddly little green things (sprouts) just after 9am.

Look at a Brussels sprout sometime: it's wonderfully intricate, even if you don't understand all the marvellous biological workings and stuff about chlorophyll (I am no scientist). Why biblical literalists want to believe that God made the world in 6 days rather than through the wonderful mechanism of evolution I have not a clue. Surely God is more honoured by acknowledging the process of divine creativity than simply having the Almighty plonk down the Creation in a "Here's one I made earlier" fashion?

I also thought about the nature of the Community in which I am living: "inspired by the rule of St Benedict" is the official line. But actually in practice, it's rather more of the "Arminian nunnery" of Little Gidding and Nicholas Ferrar. Thoroughly Anglican in it's Office but without the clutter of habits et al. Actually thoroughly domesticated, in that homely way that is the hallmark of classical Anglican Prayer Book spirituality. It's far from incompatible with a Benedictine inspiration: read Martin Thornton's "English Spirituality" and see what I mean.

Now back to inspect the plum puddings! How Dickensian!

Music and prayer.

I had an interesting conversation yesterday about the use of music in prayer. Not in public, liturgical prayer, but in personal devotional prayer. Often when saying the Office, I sing a hymn. Out loud, on my own. I also find music can move me to pray quite spontaneously. Perhaps there is something of sharing in the creativity of God in this. I am not a creative type really. Can't cook, paint or do things with wood and metal. But I can sing a bit and can use words. In singing someone elses devotional words to someone elses tune, I find I co-operate with the creativity that has been expressed. That seems to help me to pray in a way that sitting passively waiting on God doesn't. Actively co-operating with God leads me to reflection/meditation and in a way that is quite different to analytical musing. The action seems to still the mind and open it to the divine majesty and reality. A case of praying as you can rather than worrying about praying in a way that is awkward. It was a spiritually enriching conversation.