Perhaps, like me, you do things in seasons. I'm not an avid journaler, for example, but I do engage in it when the time is right—in a certain season of life when some aspect of my life or inner being needs attention. Or while on retreat. 

A spiritual practice can be like that. We may not have the self-discipline to do it everyday, but if we listen deeply to the voice of intuition, or to those subtle urgings of Spirit, we find ourselves magnetically drawn back to it. The deeper, truer part of us (soul? essence? God-self?) knows what we need to connect with That which will enable us to connect to the truth of our being.

This winter, as the snow falls and frigid temps keep me inside, I have taken to a classic spiritual practice in the early hours of the morning: devotional reading and "journaling lite." I've returned to an old classic, translated by one of our worldly wisdom guides. I read just a small section each day and sit with it, ponder it, let it roll through my heart-mind like gossamer rays of sunlight, illuminating that which needs to be seen. Then, I choose just a few words or lines to capture the wisdom of the moment and record it in the narrow spaces of a day planner. That's it.

Taking in just enough to satisfy, small bites, to savor and enjoy. For me, this is an act of Presence. Discarding the notion (and tendency) to gobble up information (even divine wisdom) and quickly swallow to call it "good." Or engaging in a spiritual practice half-heartedly so we can check it off our To-Do List. Presence, in this way, is cultivated by going slowly and taking our time; creating space for ourselves to sit and take pleasure in the process.

Presence involves a generosity to self that is not selfish by any means, but an invitation to being with ourself in simple, kindly ways that nourish wholeness. 

It's not too late to begin again, to launch (or relaunch!) a gentle morning practice of Presence through gentle spiritual engagement, welcoming that which wants to make itself known to you. 

A Peaceful Pause for New Beginnings (3 min.)

I've been pondering this post for a while now. Actually, I have been in discernment for months about how to best focus my energies and heart in terms of my work in the world, my heath and well-being, my relationships and, most importantly, my relationship with the Divine. I was surprised to see that my last post here was in April! 

The pandemic caused many of us to redirect our life's focus. For me, the pandemic offered a unique opportunity to get "off the road." Staying home for this extended period of time revealed some very interesting (and timely!) things. In my case, the "quieting" (as my friend Sr. Ann calls it) was just what my soul needed to get clear about my habits, as well as my heart's desires. 

I don't use the word "soul" lightly here. Its use is purposeful. Being home and staying home was an act of genuine soul care for me. You see,  I have been teaching and traveling—public speaking, leading programs and retreats--traveling, traveling, since 1985 when two of my three children were very young (and one was not even born yet). It feels as if I have been "on the road" forever. The pandemic helped me create space for the awareness that I am weary of traveling and have been deeply nourished by being home, and leading a more contemplative life. 

​I've also been a care-taking partner for two of my dear ones for the last 18 years. Yes, I am one of the "Sandwich Generation," helping to provide compassionate care and support for a parent and a child at the same time. Had this been wearying me? The pandemic affirmed my inner "yes."

But it wasn't until I gave myself the gift of genuine presence in the form of a 5-day silent retreat in June that the call to engage even more deeply with silence and solitude in my everyday life became crystal clear. This gentle week of resting in my inner being with the Sacred—walking, listening to bird song, watching the clouds move across the sky, the waves dance along the shore—all offered deep restoration. And it brought much-needed clarity. 

For me, the ability to hold presence for oneself and for others is firmly rooted in good self-care. If my self-care is in place, it's much more likely that I will feel calm and centered, and better able to hold presence for someone else. When I've not taken good care of myself I am impatient, crabby, and easily exhausted. Does this sound familiar? 

During this time of pandemic, and in this strange time of what I call "re-entry," it's difficult to know what is the right thing to do; what is the best thing to do. This can cause ongoing feelings of distress. 'Do I stay in or venture out?' 'Do I meet up with my friends like I used to, or do I continue to stay away from social gatherings?'

No matter what your answers to these questions might be, beneath them all remains the need to continue to ground yourself in good self-care practices. It's vital that we stay faithful to what nourishes us, keeps our minds calm, and our hearts open. 

I read this article today and felt it contained such good, basic information about self-care that I wanted to pass it along to you.

https://my.happify.com/hd/self-care-practices-to-help-beat-covid-19-anxiety-and-depression/

Even if you don't have strong indicators of depression or anxiety, the 10 practices cited here can help you feel stronger, steadier, more present.

I was pleasantly surprised to see that, for the most part, I have been staying faithful to these practices. Of course, there's always the off day, but I do notice that I've maintained my equilibrium most of the time the last 14 months. I even took journaling back up a while ago. It felt good to put pen to paper and write about what I was feeling and experiencing. I talk to my spiritual director every month. I get solid sleep, try to eat healthy, go for brisk walks, and color (my hobby). I prioritize getting out in nature. (I have to engage in personal hygiene because I am on Zoom a lot!) I do not drink. I try to be mindful in all that I do. Mindfulness, very truthfully, has been my saving grace since 1994. Without it, I am prone to anxiety and worry. 

I share these thoughts with you not because I am trying to get it all right, but because I have found that these 10 things really do work to keep us well and fully present—especially when life is difficult. 

When you look at the list of 10, what do you notice? What are you doing well? What could be improved upon?

Let's remember that we can make wise choices moment by moment, and that at any time we can begin again. Let us be patient and gentle with ourselves as we do. After all, practice makes progress! And all of these things combined help us be more present to ourselves and capable of offering presence to others -- which is a very wise and loving thing to do in today's fragile world.  

In times of transition, I believe our contemplative (spiritual) practices can hold us. They can provide comfort and insight. Staying faithful to them can feel as if we are holding on  to the tiller of our boat as we navigate the stormy seas of life just a little more firmly. These practices keep us steady. They are also a powerful way to hold presence for ourselves. 

Today, I'd like to share one of the videos from this series. I introduce a favorite contemplative practice--Lectio Divina (modified version). In this video, I use a poem for our reflection, and one that can bring an invitation to look deeply into the nature of any personal transition we might be experiencing. I hope you find this practice meaningful. 

(The poem cited is featured below.)

Poem by Juan Ramon Jimenez - "Oceans"
  I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
                    And nothing
happens! Nothing...Silence...Waves...
    --Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?

I don't know anyone who doesn't wish to be more loving. A loving attitude is difficult to access, however, if we are being assailed by other emotions, especially those that we might deem negative. 

Today, I share a Guided Practice with you that can help you turn your attention away from difficult emotions to refocus on the love that lives in you and can be transmitted through you. I call it "Leaning into Love." Attending well to our emotional selves is an attribute of Presence. Taking good care of ourselves—our moods, thoughts and feelings—ultimately enables us to be more present and loving toward others. 

I hope you find it helpful. (Mp3 is 5 min. long.)

http://www.awakenedliving.com/podcasts/LeanintoLove.mp3

Sometime, if you’re fortunate, you’ll come across a string of well-intentioned words that not only turn your head, but have the power to turn your life around. In 2007, I ran into one such strand.

I was reading, Lovingkindness: The Revolutionary Path of Happiness, by meditation teacher, Sharon Salzberg. I was keen on learning more about a blessing practice called metta, a Pali word, for “unconditional friendliness.” It is sourced in Buddhist tradition, yet versions of it are found in many spiritual traditions, including Judaism and Celtic Christianity. It is an inter-spiritual practice that supports all theologies. One of the chapters opened with a portion of a poem by Galway Kinnell:

The bud
stands for all things,
even for those things that don’t flower,
for everything flowers, from within, of self-blessing.

As I read it, a chord of recognition quivered in my throat. I was much in need of self-blessing! You see, as a born nurturer, someone prone to give and give, I rarely took time to turn goodwill toward myself. As a result, I often felt parched and depleted, my own fault, of course. Reading about the notion of self-blessing was like finding a cool pool from which to drink in the middle of a desert. I knew immediately I must dedicate myself to the practice of metta. It would be healing. I would flower. I also knew that the love I so desperately needed to show myself would flow out to others when my own well was suitably replenished. There was no sense of selfishness, only self-awareness that would allow me to be more present to others by being present to myself.

In time, self-blessing became my oasis. Placing my hand upon my heart, I breathed slowly and rhythmically, pacing my breath with the phrases of metta, offering them to myself first:

May I be safe.
May I be strong.
May I be happy.
May I be peaceful and at ease.

The phrases served me well over the next few months. I repeated them several times a day at pivotal moments. They were quite the prescription: calming my too-busy mind and reducing heart-racing anxiety. Repeating the phrases also softened my emotions, expanded my feelings toward myself, and gave me permission to be with myself in a kind, nonjudgmental way. This is one of the miracles of metta: as we say the phrases to ourselves, we get to notice all of our stories and excuses, the way we fool ourselves, shedding light on our wounds, and, ultimately, engaging in self-forgiveness and healing.

This generous act of blessing organically opened the doors of my heart toward others too. I began to feel softer towards them, more understanding, patient and kind. I could more clearly see how we all struggle with a Pandora’s box of inner ailments and outward challenges. Self-compassion and compassion grew in me like a well-tended flower.

When we adopt the whole of this contemplative practice, extending the phrases of goodwill to five categories of others (benefactors, loved ones, strangers, difficult people, all beings and creatures), goodwill begins to flow like a river. With ongoing metta practice, our judgments and expectations of others are illuminated. Metta is a powerful tool for undoing anything that has limited our ability to love.

In the end, when we offer the phrases of blessing to sentient beings everywhere, we realize that we are all connected in a great web of being-ness. We are all trying to be happy. We are all trying to find our way "home." We are more alike than dissimilar. We are actually one body.

What Galway Kinnell wrote was true: “everything flowers from within, of self-blessing.” Indeed, a universal garden of compassionate humans can bloom, one tender bud at a time. Blessing ourselves and others is a supremely kind (and healing) thing to do.

A Self-Blessing Practice:
Place your hand on your heart. See if you can receive your own goodwill right now. How does this feel? Are you experiencing any resistance blessing yourself in this way? Do thoughts of selfishness arise? Rest assured that blessing yourself is not an act of self- absorption, but a way to calm and soothe your overworked mind and heart.

​©2018, Janice L. Lundy

Excerpted from Living Gently with Myself: A 30-Day Guidebook by Janice L. Lundy. Heart to Heart Press, 2018. 

The other day my daughter shared with me an exercise that was given to her in a healing group she was attending. The question was: "What is your Super Power and can you draw it?"

I loved this question and I was curious what her Super Power would be. She sent me her drawing in response.  

Of course, I was so touched by her drawing. It felt precious to me and deeply tender. But instead of interpreting it for myself, I asked her to tell me what her Super Power was. 

"Compassion" was her answer. My heart skipped a bit because I felt genuinely happy that this is how she perceives herself; as someone who is skilled at not only feeling compassionate, but able to offer compassion to others. Needless to say,  this was a Proud Mama moment. 

When it comes to Presence, what would you say your Super Power is? Is it Patience, Humility, Loving-Kindness, Deep Listening, or some other Virtue of the Spirit? Perhaps it's Compassion like my daughter. I am still pondering mine. Right now I think it's Equanimity—staying steady in these times of global challenge. 

Whatever your answer, may your Super Power continue to rise and shine so all your interactions with others are of the healing kind.  

Friends, at the turning of a new year, I continue to listen deeply to the voice of my spirit, on the lookout for the Divine Nudge that always helps me discern how to Be within myself, with others, and in the world. And especially how to continue to live more deeply into Boundless Love. I wish the same for you. 

One of the messages I've received the last few winters is to hibernate; to hole up and allow a healing passage to open. This happened naturally in 2019 and 2020 because each January I had surgery, and was given the gift of a 6-week recovery. This year, no surgery (Praise Be!), yet the call was still there to enter a period of holy hibernation. Not one to squander Grace, there is where I find myself these days: cozied up to the Divine and loving every moment of it. 

To honor this sacred space of being with Presence, I've stepped away from social media. This decision was not made lightly. In fact, a sweet online friend of mine mentioned that she could feel me  moving away from it for a while now—a slow wean. It's true. The discernment process I used to listen deeply to my inner being about this was not easy and didn't happen overnight. This is true of most important discernments. They take time. They can be difficult. They can illuminate all the ways we are still not living truthfully with ourselves, or how we hide behind personas, or remain stuck in old stories--false stories—about how we think we "should" be to feel loved and accepted (or respected) by others.

Social media was just one of the places this showed up for me. I did not love it. I didn't feel nourished by it on the deepest level. In fact, for me, it was a significant distraction from silence, taking time away from my contemplation and reflection, which are so vital to my well-being. I fully understand that social media for some is just the opposite and I am so glad that others (perhaps you?) find it helpful, informative, perhaps even a lifeline to meaningful relationships and communication. I celebrate this for you. 

Each of us, because our life and time here are so very precious, must listen deeply to discern the best ways to spend our time and energy. Each of us has different needs, varying bandwidths for interaction, noise, and activity. How vital it is that we honor these needs! It is through this self-honoring process that we are able to hold gentle presence for ourselves. It is also how we can open ourselves to the Divine which I fully believe requires time and space--periods of inactivity, of solitude, silence and stillness—to be known. 

As 2021 calls you forth, may you listen to what the Sacred is inviting you to be, do or not do so that you can live from the genuine depths of your Being. And in Love ... 
​

In 2021, I continue to work with individuals 1-on-1 to help them cultivate Presence for themselves and others. If this is a desire of your heart this year, my "Pure Presence Practitioner" training is available for you to begin any time.

It's mid-December and we find ourselves still struggling through pandemic times. The nature of our casual encounters like those we might have at the grocery store have changed. To me, they feel less connective. We are not only distanced from one another physically, but emotionally as well. I wonder if this is how we truly want to experience one another going forth for as long as the pandemic lasts. 

A few years ago, I shared a practice I call "Grocery Store Smile." This was something I always tried to do while in the grocery story. I'd put a little smile on my face and make eye contact with a perfect stranger, or with someone who worked in the store. With a slight smile I could convey, "I see you," and send them a simple blessing.  With someone who looked stressed, I might smile and silently say, "May you be at ease in your life today." Sometimes people would smile back, or at least offer a little twinkle through their eyes, as if they had received my subtle kindness. 

Today, with masks on, with tension running high, many of us move in and out of stores as quickly as we can, and smiles are hidden. Eyes, however, are still the windows to the soul, as Shakespeare said, and even in pandemic times, we can convey goodwill with our eyes. Our eyes can smile, twinkle, shine a little brighter when we see someone. Our eyes can convey what's in our hearts—fear or friendliness, anxiety or appreciation. The choice is ours.

This holiday season, I invite you to try my Grocery Store Smile practice now and then. It's one easy way to convey Presence to people—and lovingkindness, too. During these times, we can all use a little more kindness.

Tis' is the season of giving. May we never forget how sweet it can be to offer someone the simple gift of a blessing.

Another post based on "these times" in which we are living. With ongoing tension around political views and concern about the state of the world, our ability to hold presence and listen well to others may be seriously stretched, even non-existent. Today, I present a few thoughts about this with a tiny practice that can help.

​Sometimes it's difficult to listen. As we engage with someone, intending to receive and honor their sharing, our listening may falter. We may grow weary or impatient; our attention may wander, or we outright lose interest. Depending on the situation, there are a number of ways to respond to this dilemma. Today, let's explore two of the solutions together.
 
1. Take an energizing breath to heighten your senses: a deep inhale (to the count of 8) and a shorter exhale (to the count of 6.) This can enliven you. It can help you re-focus.
 
2. Practice prayerful listening. Ask for assistance for what you need to be more present in the moment; to listen more purely, unconditionally. Sometimes, when I am sitting with someone, listening to them in a deeper way, I need help. Instead of continuing to struggle with being attentive, I turn my heart toward the Sacred and open it to receive assistance with this matter.
 
Sometimes it's a very simple bequest, "Open me." Or, "Help me to listen." Or, "Help me not want to talk so much!" Prayer is our reaching down and in, or out and beyond ourselves for courage and guidance when we need it the most.  Let us make good use of this in our listening as well. Ask for what you need and trust it will be given.

Adapted from Pure Presence: A Workbook and Journal
©2017, Janice L. Lundy