Shared Prayers
Each month when our Ultreya group meets, we put our names in a basket and then each of us draws one out to find out who we pray for (in a special way) for the following month. So, Bryan – you get a really good month!
I leave for Spain tomorrow for my Camino. I have only one real expectation: I expect to complete the 500 mile walk. Other than that, I have some hopes such as hope of finding a deeper connection with God, hope of leaving more than a few extra pounds of myself behind, hopes of meeting new people, seeing new sites, visiting interesting places and churches, and forming new friendships while coming to know my walking companion better.
My basic approach is to treat this as an active, walking prayer — could be meditation, could be contemplation, could be intercession for those who have asked for prayers, and even for those who have not. At least parts of this journey will be a prayer for men and women here in Alabama who are working as team members for the fall Cursillos, and for those new pilgrims making those weekends.
I’ve considered this prayer aspect enough that I have been very pleasantly surprised by those who say “I’ll be praying for you.” — It becomes shared prayer. I pray for so many here at home, and in turn, so many here will pray for me. It seems that perhaps I a part of a large community, even as I am pretty much alone. That seems rather like our journey to find the god within: I must do it myself, but I must do it as a part of the community. Not either/or but both/and.
And so, I spent my 75 minutes struggling to stay focused at yoga practice this morning. I try to sit still and breathe and rest in God; I will run with my other buddies in the morning before loading the car and heading to the airport. Yoga practice and running — those are my regular forms of moving meditation… walking the Camino will have to become that moving meditation for the next few weeks.
And to you who will walk with me vicariously (through thoughts and prayers) – thanks for the shared prayer.
Preparation
I fly to Paris in less than 3 weeks. From there I travel by train to Bayonne and on to St. Jean Pied de Port, where my Camino begins on Sept. 27. So, you had better believe I’m up to my eyeballs in preparation. Actually, it is emotional eyeballs as much, or more than physical eyeballs. I fret over exactly what to pack, how to stay light weight but have enough of what I really need. What do I really need? What can be left behind? Will my flight be a smooth one? Will it be on time? Will I have trouble meeting up with Susan in Paris? Am I in good enough shape physically to attempt this? I don’t like being wet and cold, but I’ll bet there will be times when I will be… Will we actually complete the Camino in the time we have allotted?
You get the picture, huh?
I thought about it the other night before sleeping. When I leave for the Camino, these 6 or so weeks will be the longest separation from my husband in 38 years. I have moved several times, but I’ve never, in my life, just taken off on a 6 week trip. I believe that if it were up to my mother and my daughter, I might not be allowed to go. I look forward to something that suspect will be part religious pilgrimage and part pure adventure. I can’t tell you (or myself) exactly why I want to go, only that I know it is time and I am called to go. It’s almost “I must go.”
There is a song we sing at church: Companions on the Journey. I’m sure I will meet many new companions on this journey. But, I also will take with me reminders of companions that won’t be walking with me. I have Pheza’s hydration pack in my backpack. Lucy let me use a walking stick. Jeremy loaned me a SIM card for the phone I’ll be taking. Much of my gear was bought with an REI gift certificate that my children gave me for my birthday. I have a good hat and a good rain jacket because JP couldn’t rest until he knew I had them (and a sleeping bag, a well-fitted backpack, etc).
And so, there is the balance: what to leave behind, what will come along because it is chosen, what comes along because it is a part of my very being. I wonder what the balance will look like when I return. That will be interesting.
Ultreya!
Love Thy Neighbor
So, I couldn’t help myself this morning (not that I tried very hard) — simply had to add my two cents worth when a friend posted this picture on Facebook with a comment about “would you wear this shirt?”
My first response was a long the lines of:
the second part of this is “love thyself” — my overweight self, my angry self, my happy self, my addicted self…
And that is true, to me. If I love my neighbor as myself, then I’d better love myself or the neighbor won’t be very pleased with how I “love” them. I’ll despise and hate those neighbors that remind me of the parts of myself where I am still at war with myself.
I felt ok about posting that thought in a public place.
Her brother took exception to the sentiment on the shirt, pretty much calling it PC BS. He stated that it is a two-way street, and we certainly don’t need to love those folks (groups represented on the shirt) especially when they are out to harm us. He said he would never wear the shirt.
OK.
Love your neighbor… doesn’t seem to be optional for a Christian (and I suspect for people of other faiths as well) to love your neighbor. There is no mention of how your neighbor feels about your or how your neighbor treats you. I totally agree that people have a right and a need to feel safe and to exercise judgement in relationships. Sometimes love can be really tough, and not all fun — ask any parent of a teenager. But, loving your neighbor isn’t optional.
The best thing about the exchange this morning is that is certainly helped me to understand my own beliefs. It helped me to look at my strengths and my shortcomings. And, I pray that I was able to express my own beliefs and hopes without destroying someone else. After all, we are called to love our neighbors.
Discovery
Since late June I have begun practicing yoga. Practice is indeed a proper approach as I find that there are certain asanas (positions? poses? moves?) that my body cannot even remotely begin to attain. There are others that are quite easy to attain. There are some stretches that have responded well to practice. I no longer want to cry when it becomes clear that we will be doing half pigeon. I actually feel really good about it, and I love the way my hips feel after resting in it for a few minutes. It took some practice to move from this being a border-line painful experience to a deep, restful one. And that practice meant going only as far as I could without hurting myself, and coming back to that place over and over and gradually finding that the edge keeps moving. With each practice it seems I am able to relax into it a bit more deeply.
The practice leads to discovery. This morning it seems that I discovered that I could do things more effectively by focusing on keeping my spine and thus my entire torso elongated. Tell me to bend or move, and my middle wants to collapse. Not good. Can’t breathe very well when you let that happen. When I walked out of class my body wanted to be tall and straight… all those things about posture my mother tried to ingrain when I was growing up. And it felt really GOOD.
Many years ago, Fr. Bill chastised me for some of my motions in church… for swaying when I played the guitar. I was not happy with that — and in many ways I think he was out of line. But, one thing he said comes back time after time: all of your movement, be it standing, kneeling, genuflecting, talking, etc is a prayer. Your whole body is a prayer. It seemed that my prayer wasn’t appropriate in his eyes at that time. As that incident floats back into my consciousness, I find his fundamental premise to be very true. Prayer is not words (Prayers may be repeated words); Prayer is a full body experience. As I step into a yoga practice, it seems that I enter into prayer with my entire self: body and mind; heart and soul. Focus on now; focus on resting in God. At the end, I am definitely more at peace.
In the process I discovered some ways to use the proper muscles — or at least which ones to try to use. And that is a start.
Slow Road to Forgiving
So, to day is one of those where I am bothered by the fact that forgiving just isn’t alway easy. A day where I find it easy to let the anger rise against someone who hurt someone I care about. I find that more difficult to get past than when someone hurts me directly. Really. Hurt me directly, I can generally find a way to forgive and move on. Hurt my friend or my child, and it requires a lot more work to forgive and move on.
I do so detest spending the energy on anger — the person I’m angry with isn’t a bad person. Clueless at times? Yes. Caught in the middle at times? Yes. And yet, it just jumps up from my gut and plagues me.
I’ve made the first step — the one where you sit and admit that you really are hurting and angry. I’m just not doing so good at giving that anger a good shake and setting it down. I’m not doing so good at not wanting the person I’m angry with to hurt — just a little bit. I want her to feel bad. To own the fact that it was indeed her choice that caused the hurt to someone I care about.
Onward — I’ll just have to sit with it a bit longer it seems… pray for help in letting go… ask Jesus to come sit with me and teach me to accept the hurt and transform it to love. (Yup — He’s got a big task there).