This past month, I found much to inspire and inspirit my life. Here are some of the sources.
Orbis Books recently published the first of James Finley’s podcasts (“Turning to the Mystics.”) In Thomas Merton, I was drawn in by the suggestion of intentional quiet time as a rendezvous with the Holy One: “And so we have to create a contemplative culture in our heart by committing ourselves to a daily rendezvous, a daily quiet time of meditation. …Meditation practice is our commitment to any act, which, when we give ourselves over to it with our whole heart, takes us to the deeper place. So our practice might be: tending the roses, a long, slow walk to no place in particular; keeping fidelity to a quiet hour alone at day’s end; being vulnerable in the presence of that person in whose presence you’re taken to the deeper place; or in a commitment to a community of people.”
In Sanae Ishida’s book, Shibui: The Japanese Art of Finding Beauty in Aging, I savored lovely art on one side of each page and a brief essay on the adjoining one: “Shibui is not easily defined and can be likened to a river. The ebb and flow of the currents feel like the vicissitudes of active and immersed living, but there is a profound stillness that reigns within and beneath. In many ways, the reflection of the water forms a moving mirror of our inner world.” Ishida further develops this metaphor: “A river is perfectly imperfect—for have you ever seen one that’s symmetrical like a highway? …you cannot step into the same part of the river twice, and like everything else on this mysterious planet of ours, it is impermanent… If we allow it, we develop an abiding ability to forgive ourselves and others for our humanity, to find worth in our simple existence, to undo the disease of loneliness, and find solace in quiet solitude while remaining intertwined with all sentient beings.”
James Crews’ Breathing Room: Poems of Rest and Retreat not only looks beautiful with its attractive water color graphics, the content contains equal appeal. The poem “At the Monastery” opens with the poet bowing at a temple. He then asks about other bows that might be taken, including bowing to “…the crack/in the sidewalk that allows a few purple/asters to bloom and sway at the feet/of whomever passes by.” What immediately comes to mind is the part of my life I want to discard—those pains, troubles, inconveniences—but finding they provide something positive, if I am intent on giving them time to reveal meaningful insights and further incentive for spiritual growth.
The words of the song “Hold On To Love,” by Jesse Manibusan linger in my spirit since being sung at a memorial for a beloved man whose compassionate presence and constant focus on justice were evident in the hundreds of people who attended the service.
Lastly, an incident in nature a few weeks ago that remains a resonating, compelling imprint on my memory. (“The Visitation” below describes it.) At first I wanted to analyze why that visit took place. But later I concluded the visit was one of those precious moments of “knowing” that I’d been connected to an unseen realm, one existing beyond the human, rational mind. Perhaps I was meant simply to receive the joy of that visit. Surely joy is enough. More than enough.
May you find inspiring resources that resonate with your life as you move through July.
Abundant peace,
Joyce Rupp
