Time Compression

 

Photo credit here.

A week’s worth of a day

Open air and cadence

Sweet nothings and coffee

Cleaning, preparing, going. . .

 

Arriving in hurried conversation

Check the boxes

Make the orders, give

The unexpected, crushing blow

 

An injury, a promised filing

Tears in the hallway

Cuttings on the floor

But you must move forward

 

Leaving at last

Light streaming

The cows making dinner

For a beloved companion

 

Then the screen

Recalling countless words

Which make no sounds

But fill me weary

 

A usual consequence

Of time compressed,

Jammed, stomped from

One week, into one day.

 

Lord help us all.

3/7/26

Facing West

Photo credit here.

The late afternoon mixed spring skies with winter winds. I considered walking from my hotel to the nearby shopping area, but thought better of it the longer I stood in the wind unpacking the car.  From my room's windows, gazebos frame the pool and a man-made lake lies just beyond, then houses beyond the lake. Ducks and geese floated atop the lake, and eventually, a young teenager explored the water's edge from his backyard. 

I grew reflective as the setting sun turns the sky butter yellow and sweet potato orange; as blushes of pink flush the clouds and shadows lengthen. Maybe the ending of a day of work gives my mind time to relax or maybe my soul grieves one more day gone or maybe the shock of color ignites my right brain, but I wondered, for the millionth (billionth?) time of my life if I am living the life I want to live. I used to say "the life I am supposed to be living," and in doing so, placed inappropriate amounts of stress on myself and those who dealt with my worried chattering about "how does one know they are on the 'right' path"? 

Often the worry mixed in the God component - was I praying the right way? asking the right question? getting still enough, for long enough, to hear enough of God? The consternation grew from the belief God had "A" plan (i.e. "ONE" plan) for my life, and it was up to me to find it. My current conundrum mirrors the solitariness of my youth - as if there is one way to live my life congruent with my life's ethos, pathos, and logos. I also maintain some implicit understanding that I must work (often hard) to figure out HOW to live life the way I "want" to live it. 

And when I say "life I want," I'm meaning living a life with enjoyable and fulfilling work, while being able to provide for my family, while also having time to be with J, my Dad, our families, the dog; to engage in dance and music; to enjoy art; to travel; to plant gardens; to bake; to create.

Someone shared a story from Barbara Brown Taylor not too long ago. BBT was trying to decide between two good offers for work (I think), and she spent a good amount of time praying to God, asking for direction about which way was the "right" way. Eventually, she felt she heard God say, "Pick one." 

Before I engaged in my last educational adventure, I sensed God saying something similar. Out of centering prayer, I recognized God to be an ever present companion, sanctifying life by being present in it. I could take action or not; choose to go in a direction which appealed to me or another, equally appealing direction. Any choice could be "God's choice" because God is here, with us.

Because I am a wandering soul, my perpetual question will likely be, "Is this the life I want to live? Or is there something else?" I suppose if the question comes up at all, the answer is likely "No, this is not the life you want to live. If it was, you wouldn't need to ask the question in the first place." 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Psalm 103: 8-18

The Lord is merciful and gracious,
    slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love.
9 He will not always accuse,
    nor will he keep his anger forever.
10 He does not deal with us according to our sins
    nor repay us according to our iniquities.
11 For as the heavens are high above the earth,
    so great is his steadfast love toward those who fear him;
12 as far as the east is from the west,
    so far he removes our transgressions from us.
13 As a father has compassion for his children,
    so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him.
14 For he knows how we were made;
    he remembers that we are dust.

15 As for mortals, their days are like grass;
    they flourish like a flower of the field;
16 for the wind passes over it, and it is gone,
    and its place knows it no more.
17 But the steadfast love of the Lord is from everlasting to everlasting
    on those who fear him,
    and his righteousness to children’s children,
18 to those who keep his covenant
    and remember to do his commandments.

Consolations

Photo credit here (on Etsy).

J and I jogged this morning in one of my favorite ways: exploring. We took a new path, ran around a *possibly* abandoned retreat area and ended the run at a new breakfast spot we had wanted to try. At the retreat center, I ran the small labyrinth they had (a first), then took a moment to pray in the center before running back out. The eatery (breakfastery?) celebrated sisters and decorated walls with pictures of sisters who visited. We ambled back bellies full of eggs, beignets and coffee. The middle of the day kept us busy with our various responsibilities. 

We spent the evening around a small public fire pit and another couple ended up sitting with us. We heard tales of romance, heartache, resignation and dedication and shared a few of our own. Now, J is playing an Irish melody in drop D tuning, and I write. I love days which flow from one adventure to the next and our world expands while dreams dance on the horizon.

I find it difficult to enter into this kind of space as often as I would like. Taking a new path, having time to dawdle, sharing it with J nourishes me. These will be my consolations today.* The goal, according to Sleeping with Bread, is to incorporate more consolations into life, so a net sum of joy fills our days. The joy becomes the avenue of God's love and grace to us and, by proxy, those around us. 

The book's premise reminds me of when I lived in Berkeley and one of the graduate students at First Pres studied Russian Literature. She said while she thought her father would frown on her choice of study, he surprised her by saying, "We need more people in the world who love what they do. If what you love is Russian Literature, go for it." Her words refreshed me when she related them, and they still do in the recounting.

May you find your consolations filling your cup to overflowing.

*Don't know what I mean by consolation? I talk about it here.

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Luke 6: 32-38, NRSV

32 “If you love those who love you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. 33 If you do good to those who do good to you, what credit is that to you? For even sinners do the same. 34 If you lend to those from whom you expect to receive payment, what credit is that to you? Even sinners lend to sinners, to receive as much again. 35 Instead, love your enemies, do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return. Your reward will be great, and you will be children of the Most High, for he himself is kind to the ungrateful and the wicked. 36 Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful.

37 “Do not judge, and you will not be judged; do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven; 38 give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together, running over, will be put into your lap, for the measure you give will be the measure you get back.”

Branded

CREDIT: HTTPS://WWW.PINTEREST.CO.UK/PIN/13581236377084308/

As I walked behind an extremely tattooed man this afternoon, I wondered if a tattoo might make me cool. At 19, when I spent a summer in Alaska, the housekeeping lead for my small group of room cleaners also ran a small side business out of the staff housing inking skin. I considered doing something small somewhere on my ankle, maybe (I really don't remember.), but I thought better of it. My liver thanks me to this day (dirty needles = hepatitis, and I'm guessing his were NOT clean). 

Of course nothing will make me cool. I'm just not one of those people. But sometimes I dream that I could be. 

I believe the flight of fancy into body brandedness/self-expression/symbol grew from some profound discontentment I feel at the moment. My currently chronic fatigue helps nothing, neither does my body's journey into menopause, but these are other stories. Today my fidgetiness took me to the second floor walking "track" at my place of employment, which led me to a patio walled in by large, reflective mirrored windows, stacked one atop the other 10 floors high. The city streets hummed below, clouds parted indiscriminately to let their blue show, and several people stepped out to smoke. 

I considered the planes I've seen landing from this patio, dreamed about freedom and movement, exploration and adventure. I would have happily stayed outside the rest of the afternoon, but soon someone texted me and asked about meeting, I completed my lap, and I finished the day inside, with no window, staring at my computer screen.

The pattern has carved the Grand Canyon in my brain: a deeply held discomfort with the present leading me to seek escape. In this way, I am an addict as much as my brother is. I think the realization gives me more compassion for him, but not always. Some days I think my baseline wariness grows from early childhood wonderings of when the next explosion (or implosion) might occur - it's hard to rest when you're always on guard.

Because I have moved a lot, years of experience whisper to me how good I have it, here and now. For most of the places I longed to leave, I look back and see all the joy, the friendships, the unique opportunities each place offered. I usually don't regret leaving, but I recognize my wrestling with the present only left me with a limp and no blessing. 

The practice of The Examen helps me see the good in each day, but I still wrestle, and recently, I'm going all 3 periods in a days-long tournament. 

Maybe one day I will become "unmarked" by this way of living in the world. I know I have some work to do to help the process along, but I trust God is in the details with me, loving me all the while. 

PRACTICE

Lectio Divina: Read the following passage through after a few deep breaths and pay attention to any word or phrase which sticks out for you. Read through again and pay attention to anything further you notice about the word/phrase and how it applies to you. Read through again and spend time in prayer with the word/phrase asking God what you need to understand/know/do with the word/phrase (i.e., How might God be guiding you? What needs your further action? Where may your understanding need to be changed or expanded? How may this impact your relationship with someone else?). End with a time of thanksgiving. 

Genesis 32:24-31, NRSV

24 Jacob was left alone, and a man wrestled with him until daybreak. 25 When the man saw that he did not prevail against Jacob, he struck him on the hip socket, and Jacob’s hip was put out of joint as he wrestled with him. 26 Then he said, “Let me go, for the day is breaking.” But Jacob said, “I will not let you go, unless you bless me.” 27 So he said to him, “What is your name?” And he said, “Jacob.” 28 Then the man[a] said, “You shall no longer be called Jacob, but Israel, for you have striven with God and with humans[c] and have prevailed.” 29 Then Jacob asked him, “Please tell me your name.” But he said, “Why is it that you ask my name?” And there he blessed him. 30 So Jacob called the place Peniel, saying, “For I have seen God face to face, yet my life is preserved.” 31 The sun rose upon him as he passed Penuel, limping because of his hip.

The Calling

Original Artwork from Psalm Prayers; one of my favorite modern icon artists.*

Since the beginning of the year, I have engaged in the spiritual practice of Examen. St. Ignatius is said to have had the Jesuit monks in his care engage in the practice midday and in the evening. Two basic steps comprise the totality of the practice: naming a "consolation" of the day and naming a "desolation." Practitioners expand the steps to include a moment of centering breath prior to engaging in the day's review and a prayer of thanksgiving at the end for whatever consoles or desolates on any given day.

The brevity of the exercise belies its impact on day-to-day life. Within a month, I recognized my own penchant toward pessimism completely out of proportion to the consolations of the day. Granted I listed more than just one consolation or desolation of the day, at least initially, and the collected data of the first month helped me realize the part I played in desolating myself with my attitude, presumptions, preoccupations or fears.

For Lent, I found a book at my place of worship, Sacred Breath: Forty Days of Centering Prayer, by J. David Muyskens, and I have spent all of two days refreshing my short-lived practice of Centering Prayer and lectio divina. Today, the scripture passage came from 1 Samuel when Samuel, "did not yet know the LORD," but the LORD "came and stood there, calling as before." 

The two, well three, practices above begin with the premise God is here in this moment - as well as all the moments before and all the moments after. And by nature of being God, God calls to us in the midst of our lives, the consolations and the desolations - maybe asking us if we "yet know the LORD." 

And if the answer is "No," the promise remains we can know the LORD - even more - God wants to be known and is calling to us in order to be known. 

And when God is known, Love is known - in the midst of every heartache and every triumph. May we hearing the calling.

*Additional website: kregyingst.com or @psalmprayers