We can open ourselves to awakening again and again to the joys and mysteries of biology, astronomy, and all of Nature.
We can awaken again and again to new joys, intrigues, and mysteries of the mind; of the intellect.
So also, moment to moment, we can awaken freshly to the joys, guidance, and mysteries of the Holy Spirit within each of us and, in doing so, deepen our relationship with that Spirit.
I only remember one lesson from First Day School — Quaker Sunday School — sixty some years ago in New Haven, Connecticut. The late Wight Bakke told us that one of the things we kids could think about, could ask ourselves, during silent worship was this: “What, this past week, could I have done better?”
Perhaps because it’s the only one I remember, that suggestion comes back to me from time to time. And, for the first time this morning decades later, I see something new in it. When I ask myself from the heart — when anyone asks themselves — “What, this past week, could I have done better?” the Holy Spirit within each of us, whether or not we are aware of it, hears the question and, knowing us and what we have done that week, helps us to answer it.
This morning I see, too, that the Holy Spirit within each person is always there to help us to grow; to help us find within ourselves wholesome and practical answers to any question as we go through Life. And the more attentive we are to the presence and guidance of the Holy Spirit, the deeper our connection to that Spirit becomes.
“Do your best and let your reputation take care of itself.”
I have never received better advice than that. That advice, from an esteemed colleague, was given regarding judicial service but, to me, it applies to every situation, every undertaking, and every relationship.
In particular, that advice applies well to my relationship with the Holy Spirit, for I believe that even God does not ask us to do more than the best we can see to do in any situation. If I do that — if, guided by the Spirit within, I do my best to represent love and grace in this life — I can be confident that my reputation with the Holy Spirit, and my reputation with other people, will be as good as I can make them.
"You can be right OR you can be happy."
I've recently been sick. Nothing serious: I am a most fortunate man, including in health. But I'm getting ahead of myself.
I'm training for an athletic competition and, besides being uncomfortable, getting sick seemed bound to set back my preparation and my performance. Dismayed, I thought about what was happening, what could happen, and what it all meant. Did it mean that I was, at least then, NOT fortunate? Did it mean that I would be right if I thought myself no longer a fortunate man? If I thought my good fortune had ended?
I came to see again that whether I believe I am fortunate - lucky, if you prefer - or I believe I am unfortunate or unlucky, I can be right about that belief. There will always be reasons to support either belief.
What matters for me is what I believe. What matters for each of us is what we believe. We can believe things that are not true, but what matters is what we believe.
We can believe things that are not objectively provable, but what matters is what we believe - particularly when our own personal experience is real, clear, and powerful enough to give us all the proof we need.
I can be sick and still believe I am fortunate.
Lots of awful, painful, or sad things can - and will - happen in my life, including my human circle, and I will still be able to believe I am fortunate. All I have to do is focus on the reasons - objective facts or personal experience - for believing I am fortunate. All I have to do is turn away from the reasons to believe I am unfortunate; turn away from being right about the ways in which I've been unlucky; turn away from feeling sorry for myself.
All I have to do is never lose sight of the reasons to be happy. All I have to do is to keep choosing to turn toward joy.
Suppose the Universe and everything in it was created by a Power beyond our understanding.
Suppose a name for that power, in the English language, is God.
Supposing those two things, no supposition is needed for this: everything that God created includes the animate species called homo sapiens - humanity.
So viewed, and however we imagine God to be - for example, a vast overarching and remote Power or a readily accessible Spirit responsive to individual humans' prayers - isn't all human intelligence as artificial, to God, as "artificial intelligence" is to us?
Have those of us who believe that the Universe and everything in it were not the result of a cosmic roll of the dice forgotten that we are, to God, "A.I." - A.I. that can learn, act, create and destroy, self-justify (including rejecting the idea that our intelligence has a Source more powerful than we), and self-replicate?
Before creating humans, did God ask, "what could go wrong?"
Did God create humans with a vast capacity to love, to perceive right and wrong (albeit differently from each other), and to serve and support each other so as to strengthen what we perceive as right and to end and remedy what we perceive as wrong?
As I try to simplify and strengthen my connection to the Holy Spirit, this question comes to me this morning:
What is the difference between the way I act when I act alone, including service to others - when I am off duty, so to speak; and the way I act when I am consciously trying to represent the Holy Spirit?
What if everything in the Universe, including gravity, light, and the laws of physics and chemistry, and every star, planet, rock, speck of dirt, drop of water, and every plant and creature — every ant, bird, reptile, whale, and human — that lives or ever lived was created not randomly but by some unfathomably great Power?
What if we call that Power “God”?
What if there is, or was, some quality, some vestige or reminder of its creator – of God — in every thing and every creature that ever existed?
Would knowing that – or, if that’s too much to know, even just believing that – change how we go about our lives? Would believing that change how we care for this planet, its earth, atmosphere and waters?
What if we believe that there is some quality of God, something divine, in every person?
Does that belief change how we think about, judge, greet, and interact with other people?
I am writing a novel. I've barely begun, and I've never done this before, but I tell myself that I'm committed to writing a novel. I envision the protagonist, a congenial and wise mail carrier, having a series of conversations with people on his route about Life's challenges and ways to deal with them.
My wife has suggested that I include a chapter about procrastination. She knows I have lots of experience with procrastination.
I have lots of experience with procrastination because, though I have lots of ideas about how to avoid it, I don't have a lot of effective ways.
Thanks to my wife's gentle poke in the guise of a suggestion, this morning I see the following pattern in my life ...
One, I see something that I think ought to be done. It may be something only I can do. Though how much time ought to be given to self care, such as learning, exercise, rest and play, is debatable, the things only I can do are not the main problem. The main problem I see today is with things that I think ought to be done that no one's doing, such as picking up litter or volunteering for a task - or writing personal reflections in a blog - so I do them. Or they can be things others are doing that I'd like to support by getting involved in some way.
The result is a long to-do list.
Two, having created a long to-do list, I feel pressure to do those things, particularly when they are commitments to other people. And I feel good when I actually do those things. Doing what I say I'll do is an important value of mine. I feel right in adhering to that value and, more important, I want to avoid failing to do so. So I plug away at my to-do list.
Three, I notice that something on my to-do list has been neglected. A couple days later, I notice it's still not done. A couple weeks later ... it is reasonable to say that I have procrastinated. But look at all the other things I've done! Good things! At least some of them were fairly important things! Look where I have not procrastinated! I've done the best I could see to do!
Today, I see that I unconsciously justify procrastination and I see how I do it: I neglect responsibility for my choices about my priorities. If I'm going to neglect a task, it should be something that's nowhere near top priority.
The best I can see to do could be better - and needs to be better if I am going to be less of a procrastinator regarding the most important things on my to-do list. In making my moment-to-moment choices, including what I put on my to-do list, it would serve me to be more honest with myself - and, as needed, with others - about what my choices reveal about my priorities. And whenever my revealed priorities need to be rearranged, if I fail to make different choices accordingly, I should admit to myself that I'm either a hypocrite or just plain lazy.
One blog post done. Now on to the novel.
In between activities, in Life’s pauses – or as a seemingly constant inner background – where does the mind go? Does the mind – do I – go to shortage of something, or yearning for something?
What is that something? Peace? Joy? The experience of being loved? Time alone? The company of another? The touch of another? Movement or activity? Energy? Motivation? The experience of health and vigor? Alcohol or another drug? Food? Money? Freedom from stress? Rest? I am familiar with all of those thoughts!
Where does that habit of mind come from?
We know that Life is one choice – conscious or not – after another. We can change our habits. We can outgrow habits that do not serve us.
To begin, do we choose to remain in shortage and yearning, feeling sorry for ourselves, or do we choose a path of self-examination, growth, service and joy?
What sources of joy and gratitude do we have enough of, even an abundance, which offset our perceived shortages, which assuage our yearning, or which at least help put them in a healthful perspective?
Do we bring our consciousness out of anxiety, self-righteousness and self-pity and to cultivation of awareness of our inner Spirit, or inner Source of wisdom and peace; of patience (including with ourselves); of gratitude; and of love?
Where would we be without discomfort? Without discomfort, we would learn little and be emotionally and intellectually stunted and physically unfit. We would lack compassion, and have none of the satisfactions of accomplishment and contribution to others.
Yet it is natural to avoid discomfort and, when it occurs, to try to reduce or end it. Our processes of avoiding and mitigating discomfort, when made conscious, are fascinating to behold and examine. One sees that Life really is a series of choices of responses to circumstances, many of our own making (intentionally or not) and of course many beyond our control.
I see four main responses to discomfort. The first is to wait for the circumstances producing our discomfort to end. The second is to act to end, or escape from, those circumstances as quickly as possible.
Third, it can help much to be grateful that things are not worse - to be glad that there are countless sources of discomfort which are absent - and to be grateful for our blessings.
Fourth, by choosing love over fear and flight, we can grow from discomfort. We can enlarge our capacity to bear discomfort by examining the chain of our individual experiences, judgments and feelings which produce it - and the benefits of embracing it. We can accept our response of discomfort and forgive ourselves and, when necessary, other people. We can outgrow, or learn to live with, various discomforts one by one. We can learn to live with truth, even when it is uncomfortable.
Finally, and fortunately, we can apply all four of these ways to deal with discomfort.
This year is whatever I make of it.
More important, this day is the new whatever I make of it.
This day, and my present circumstances - as they change - are the new whatever I make of them.
I say with confidence, this day is the new whatever you make of it.
Holy Spirit, as we strive to remain conscious of You, to honor You, and to live up to You, help us to be as mirrors to others, that they may experience Your presence, love and wisdom within themselves.
One of my favorite aphorisms is by J.R.R. Tolkien. I won’t get it verbatim but, in essence, it is this: “Ultimately, moment to moment, all we can do is decide what to do with the time that is given to us.”
This morning, it seems to me that it’s not quite so simple. There is another layer of decision: we first have to decide how we will decide what to do. What sources, values and priorities will we consider and weigh in deciding what to do?
I thank You, Holy Spirit, for being constantly present and available to each of us to guide us in deciding what to do with the time that is given to us.