choices

The extraordinary in my cup of coffee.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Sometimes we see the extraordinary in the ordinary. This poem perfectly captures the blessing in such a day:

Lord, here I am.

How strange it is,

That some days feel like hurricanes

And others like glassy seas

And others like nothing much at all,

Today is a cosmic shrug.

My day planner says, 

Rather conveniently,

That I will not need you,

Cry for you, reach for you.

Ordinarily, I might not think of you at all.

Except, if you don’t mind,

Let me notice you.

Show up in the small necessities

And everyday graces.

God, be bread.

Be water.

Be laundry.

Be the coffee cup in my hands

And the reason to calm down in traffic.

Be the gentler tone in my insistence today

That people pick up after themselves for once.

When I catch my own reflection

Or feel my own self-loathing

Fluttering in my stomach.

Calm my mind,

Lift my spirit,

Make this dumb, ordinary day

My prayer of thanks.

Be the reason I feel loved.The Lives We Actually Have, by Kate Bowler and Jessica Richie

Astonishing a mean world.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

Astonishing a mean world is quite the life goal. Flipping the script. Not buying in to the smallness, pettiness, and cruelty you see around you.

Imagine the ripple effects of such kindness.

Perhaps you’ve heard the story of the man and the starfish. In sum, a man is walking along the beach at low tide finding starfish that have landed too far above the water line to survive. He dislodges them and throws them back into the ocean. A bystander is astonished and scolds him, saying that he will never be able to make a difference as there are miles and miles of beach with hundreds of stranded starfish. The man responds, tossing another back into the ocean, “Made a difference to that one,” he remarks.

Making a difference doesn’t have to be a grand gesture. It can be quite small, perhaps only affecting the person in front of you right now. Perhaps the difference is choosing an unexpected response to cruelty. Perhaps the response is to not lose hope.

Hang in there. The starfish are right in front of you on your path if you choose to see them.

An infinite succession of presents.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

This moment we are in is but one in the collection of moments that make a life, a story, a history. Each moment building on the last, forward toward a powerful culmination. To stay hopeful and earnest in each moment, no matter how dire, is a testament to what we hold dear, to hope, to a belief that all things will ultimately work together for good.

As Howard Zinn says,

TO BE HOPEFUL in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.
What we choose to emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we remember those times and places—and there are so many—where people have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a different direction.
And if we do act, in however small a way, we don’t have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is itself a marvelous victory.

Do not give up on the beliefs you have. To be decent, kind, not returning hate for hate, to speak truth to power, to retain hope for a brighter future, a future willing to work for. That is a marvelous victory.

Method v. Mission.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

One of the most joyful things about teaching is finding the method that leads to a particular child learning where perhaps they struggled before. Finding the right key for the lock. Teaching, in this way, is one of the most creative and challenging jobs because each child is unique. Not every child can simply sit at a desk and listen to their teacher drone on and somehow absorb and master the material. In fact, a student who would prefer this lecture method is rare.

A vibrant classroom is filled with hands-on, group work, mentoring, art, music, activities, and so on. There are so many ways to teach and pair the right method with the right child. This is why a good teacher will always feel they learn as much as they teach. Of course, implicit in this challenge is having as the goal, helping the child learn. When obedience and regiment replaces learning as the goal, and the teaching method is rigid and unyielding, often students will struggle and fall through the gaps.

Teachers need to always keep their eye on the ball. The bottom line, the mission, is helping children learn.

There are so many areas where the same analysis applies. Where perhaps we fail to keep our eye on the right ball.

My pastor posted the following:

The method v. The mission. There are many ‘This is the way we’ve always done it’ or ‘Technology isn’t our thing’ or ‘Let’s just keep to ourselves’ sentiments behind each failing church. And misplaced beliefs that perhaps there’s just no space for church anymore in today’s world.

And yet.

In both teaching and ministry, there remains the mission. To help children learn. To help God’s people. And these needs in the world are growing, not shrinking.

So then the question becomes, and really always has been, how can we adapt our methods to fulfill our mission?

Posted on by Shari Swanson

In his letter to the early church at Corinth, Paul sets out how love shows up in the world in his effort to help them get along. It is a frequent text for weddings:

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful…” 1 Corinthians 13:4-5.

To those about to marry, an interesting exercise is to substitute the name of your beloved each time the word ‘Love’ appears. And an even more interesting exercise, for all of us, is to substitute our own names instead of the word ‘love’:

I am patient and kind; I do not envy or boast; I am not arrogant or rude. I do not insist on my own way; I am not irritable or resentful….

How did you do? For many of us, this simple recitation shows us the exact ways and times we are being less than loving and calls us to consider those actions. Must we insist on our own way? How do we know what is right? Isn’t it possible that someone else may be right, too? Are we becoming impatient with others? Can we take a minute to rein ourselves in, breathe deeply, and begin again? Are we holding grudges? Can we let the past go and try to make our present the best possible? And so on.

These checks we can do to measure our progress and monitor our moods against the ideal of love can be very helpful to keep us on track showing up in this world as close to lovingly as we can get.

What we must save is love.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

It’s okay to be heartbroken for more than one group of people at the same time. When it comes to showing compassion, we don’t have to pick sides. Sometimes, often really, maybe even always, there is hurt and anguish everywhere, and we can mourn the lot of it.

Beware people who tell you not to be concerned for this group or that group and the hurt they feel.

Beware those who try to dehumanize others.

Beware those who lump you in as the ‘enemy’ for working to assure people are treated humanely.

Beware people who draw lines between us and them.

Beware those who try to limit you to a label or single identity.

Our hearts are big enough to embrace it all. What we must save is love.

Living in your own shoes

Posted on by Shari Swanson

I was scrolling on what used to be called Twitter and read the following post.

This really struck me. What am I doing with the power, life, opportunities, strengths, etc., that I actually have? Not the ones I dream of having, or used to have, or might someday have, or ones I admire in someone else. Mine. Right here, right now.

How about you?

Praying for peace

Posted on by Shari Swanson

We tend to think of peace as the absence of violence as quiet is the absence of noise, but is it more? Perhaps peace is active. It exists in the kind word offered, the refusal to meet hate with hate, the comfort of following higher principles, the strength of the outstretched hand. It is so easy to lose, to slip into mirroring the hate and violence we see around us, to sit silent in front of a bully, to trade barbs, to slide down. Peace is active. We maintain it in our hearts and mind. We breathe deeply to draw us back to that peaceful place. We remember truth, honor, decency, compassion. We breathe in all that is good, we exhale the bad.

Author Shauna Niequist talks about the anxiety we are all experiencing now and suggests breath prayer:

“Christians have been practicing breath prayer since at least the sixth century & there are lots of ways to do it. One way that’s been helping me lately: choose one word to pray as you inhale–what you’re asking God to bring into your life/body/spirit/world, and one word to exhale–what you’re asking God to carry for you, so that you can release it as you breathe out.

Inhale healing/exhale fear.

Inhale peace/exhale anxiety.

Inhale hope/exhale despair.

Inhale hope/exhale chaos.”

As you move forward into your day, remember to take deep breaths, center yourself, and carry on.

Praying with the news.

Posted on by Shari Swanson

How do we read the news and not get overwhelmed or angry, disconnected or depressed? How do we keep showing up with compassion and grace in a world where there is so much hate? How do we keep ourselves on the right path through the midst of it all? How do we continue to show up from a place of compassion, forgiveness, and grace? how do we keep our hearts from growing hard?

In this thoughtful letter, Rabbi Yael Levy shares his insights on how to pray with the news:

The 17th of the Hebrew month Tammuz initiates a three-week period of mourning that leads to Tisha b’Av, which is the day that marks the destruction of the Temples in Jerusalem in 586 BCE and 70 CE.

Tradition teaches that the Temple was destroyed because hatred became the operating principle in the community. The scorn, contempt and disdain that characterized daily interactions caused the Divine Presence to flee and leave the Temple vulnerable to attack.

These next three weeks ask us to reflect on the hatred that we allow to take root in our hearts. The wisdom of the tradition acknowledges that hatred can sometimes feel energizing and “so right,” but allowing it to fill our bodies and guide our actions leads to destruction.

Many years ago I was taught the practice of praying with the news. I have shared it over the years and always find myself returning to it during this season.

In this practice, each time we read or listen to a news report that enrages us, we turn our attention to those harmed by what is happening and pray for their healing and well-being. Doing so encourages us to acknowledge feelings of anger, grief and despair, and at the same time it turns our attention toward connection and compassion. Praying with the news can help us learn to bear witness to devastation and mayhem, while keeping our hearts soft, our minds calm, and our actions clear.

I am struggling mightily with this practice these days in the wake of continued violence and oppression in this country and throughout the world. Hatred can sometimes feel like such a welcome harbor. Not only does it feel so right, it can also act as a shield, creating the illusion that I don’t have to acknowledge the grief and heartbreak I am experiencing.

I need practices to help quiet the rage and fear, to loosen the constriction of hatred and to help me be with overwhelming grief. I need practices to help me return to compassion, love, joy and possibility. I find praying with the news both painful and helpful. It keeps me connected, allows sorrow, and grounds me in care and love.

Weekly reading from the Awakin.org newsletter.