When the Maps You Trusted Are Wrong

 What do you do when the map you’ve been following doesn’t match the reality of the path in front of you? There’s a bridge under construction in my town that my GPS insists I should be able to cross. It’s kind of a shock to notice that the guidance you’ve been relying on is suddenly unreliable. Once, wondering if the phone knew something I didn’t, I walked right up to the gap only to confirm there was still a big construction site where the bridge used to be. But the software companies that make the map are far away, and here I stand, looking at an active construction site and an uncrossable bridge.

Trusting your senses is a good place to start. We are living in a time when many of the maps that have been guiding us haven’t caught up to the changes in the terrain we are trying to travel. So many aspects of our lives, of our communities, are “under construction” right now- and the ways we’ve always done things are simply not available. I talk with many folks who struggle with the gap between what they feel they should be able to do, and what is actually possible in this moment. Perhaps it’s something they were always able to do that now exhausts their changing body. Perhaps it’s a goal at work or at a volunteer organization that seems achievable but yet is always out of reach. It can be disturbing when an outcome is simply not available right now, while your map insists it should be possible. Maybe it is not you who are wrong, maybe it is the map.

How can you tell? Sometimes you don’t have a whole construction crew waving orange flags to make things clear. If you can resume your journey with a little detour, perhaps it’s easier and quicker just to take that other path going to the same goal without giving it too much thought. Sometimes it’s worth getting curious and investigating. What is the nature of the obstacle? How long might it take to clear? Is there something I could do to help? If a trashcan has blown over into the sidewalk, a moment of attention could quickly clear the path for everyone.

Sometimes we need to pull over and make a new plan. When we are talking not about literal paths, but about finding a life path, a spiritual path that we can travel with integrity, compassion and a sense of calling in the world it can be worth metaphorically pulling over to the side of the road and taking some time for discernment. Long ago, my partner worked for a company that was releasing an early GPS device. We had a beta test version that he used to write instructions, and we put it in the car. One day I was driving to a new place, and the road the GPS suggested changed to a dirt road. Hmmm. Then the dirt road got bumpy and rutty in the rain, then it turned into a bike path. I had to back up through the drenching rain and mud until I was back on solid ground again. I took a breath, turned around and found a new path.

Discernment is a way of making decisions that uses our whole self -- heart, mind, body and soul. It is a way of making decisions that also includes that which is greater than ourselves, be that the Spirit, the Universe, the community of beings. It is a way of deciding that takes a long view and a deep view and arrives at a conclusion that is harmonious for our whole being.

Once we have chosen our path, and begin moving along it, discernment continues to happen all along our journey. Discernment is not just about the big choices, this career or that one, this place to live or that one. We make big and little decisions all the time in life, for as long as we live. Each day we are invited to discern step by step the path we make by walking.

Discernment is not just about moving towards what feels good, or easy. For example, part of ministry is being with people who are struggling, being with our challenges as a community and as a world. There’s a certain way I feel when I know that something is the right thing to do, even when it is hard. I sense that staying on the hard path will matter, that it will connect me to something sacred, to the deep parts of myself, to the person I most want to be.

A blessing to all of us right now who are finding our path is blocked, that the way we hoped to travel is not available, that our map is unreliable. It’s frustrating, disorienting and sometimes scary. I wish you the wisdom to trust the reality you are experiencing, the wisdom to discern your path, faith that a way will open, and trustworthy friends and guides to support you on your way.

Hope Lives Bulbs and Roots

 

This week at my house, the daffodils are finally blooming, and I see signs that the tulips are not far behind. As gardeners know, the first flowers of spring come not from seeds but from bulbs. Any daffodil or tulip you see this today stored up energy all through last year’s growing season, and when it’s leaves were finished that work, stored the energy underground all winter, so it could start again, growing out of that bulb into the sunlight when the time was right. Just about anything you see growing right now comes from a bulb, or from its roots. Trees too- remember half of them lives underground. They have great reserves of life force they store year after year, century after century in their trunks and roots.

Consider mushrooms- I hadn’t realized that the mushrooms we see are like fruit that pop up when it’s time to reproduce- sending spores out into the world to start the next generation. The body of the fungus is a great web of tiny filaments below ground. How much of life is underground! How much life and growth happens where our eyes can’t see.

Here is where I am finding hope this year, even when the late snows or frost damage the spring’s ephemeral blossoms. As sad as it is to see the fragile buds and flowers crushed, or eaten by backyard critters, my hope is underground, in those bulbs, in those roots. My hope is in the trunks of the maple trees flowing with sweetness. The eye-catching blossoms that flutter to the ground in the wind are but a brief season in the life of that tree. My practice these days is to follow the beautiful signs of life back to their trunks and roots. To marvel not only at the temporary beauty, but at the persistence, the enduring life spread out all around us. We can practice following a similar trail in our own lives, our own spirits. Where are the reserves of strength and vitality in your life, in your story, in your community? What sources of nourishment and strength are available to you as seasons come and go? A great treasure trove of life-force persists below the surface which living beings draw on in hard times, and in times of flourishing. On this you can depend.

 

A Spiritual Practice for Boredom

 “I’m Bored!” I would complain to my Dad when I was little. “How could anyone ever be bored?” He would invariably reply “There’s so much to think about!” And yet boredom naturally arises from time to time. For many folks it is arising quite frequently these days when so many of our usual activities are curtailed.

I once used the word “bored” in therapy and my therapist suggested “sometimes when we feel bored it means there is something we don’t want to look at.” So I tried that on- whenever I felt bored I would ask myself “is there something I would rather not look at behind the boredom?” I began to notice that often this was true- that if I took a moment to sink down into myself, a feeling, a memory would arise that invited a deeper look. It might be challenging to explore more deeply, but at least it wasn’t boring!

I tried this with people- when I found someone boring to listen to, I would try to listen more deeply, and sometimes it worked! A fascinated audience does sometimes bring out a more interesting conversation. Often when it doesn’t work it’s because the person who is speaking is bored with what they are saying- they are not engaging deeply with what they are saying and so it is boring no matter how hard I listen.

Sometimes when I’m bored these days, it’s a sign pointing me towards unused energy and creativity. This often happens on a Saturday afternoon after a long work week. My partner and I are recent empty nesters, and the shock of having a few hours to do whatever I want is still novel. I find I just have to be bored for a while before some inspiration strikes me- a new dish to cook, an adventure to plan. Often if I simply settle in on my porch, resigned to boredom, some fascinating new bird will come to my bird feeder, and I am bored no longer.

Another pattern I’ve noticed is that I often feel bored during transitions- some part of me is arriving somewhere new, and I am bored as I wait for the rest of myself to arrive. When I go on retreat without my phone or computer there is invariably a time of acute boredom at the beginning of the retreat as I settle in. After months of wishing I had my full time and attention to give to Spirit, having no other demands pulling at me feels a bit unsettling, boring even. But as I settle into this more spacious way of being ideas, feelings, inspirations invariable flow in to fill the space.

Often there is another patch of boredom at the end of a retreat day, when I have already prayed and read and walked and there is literally nothing left to do. I feel guilty that I SHOULD be doing something with this precious retreat time, but eventually remember that the spiritual life is not really about doing anything. The things we do are just touchstones, guides on the journey. When I am finally empty of worries, feelings, curiosities and am just empty and still, it is a moment I often recall later with wonder when I am back in my regular life- “how could I ever have been so empty? So Still? With no needs or wants, just being?”

In the coming month I invite you to notice boredom when it arises and consider it as an invitation. Where might the feeling of boredom be inviting us? Is it inviting us to listen or look more deeply at what we are experiencing? Is it inviting us to notice that this experience no longer serves us and it’s time to walk away? Is it the seed of some creative new project waiting to be born? Is it time to listen for the slow quiet speech of the spirit? Or is it simply inviting us to be grateful for the spaciousness of a quiet empty moment? This month let boredom be like a meditation bell calling you to notice what is really there.

The Mystery of Dreams

Consider dreams- those fanciful stories that arrive, without our bidding, while we sleep. I have been noticing and pondering my dreams for 25 years now, and the longer I study them, the more I am amazed. After all these years they continue to surprise me with their creativity, and with the way they evoke things which had been going on beneath the surface of my consciousness in useful and surprising ways. As my teacher Rev. Dr. Jeremy Taylor was fond of asking “Who writes this stuff?” – because it is surely not our conscious mind, and yet here they are, showing us night after night a prolific creativity outside the light of conscious control.

We humans often think that what we see, hear, feel, and think with our waking mind is all there is. Our dreams hint that even our own psyches hold mysteries we have yet to uncover, parts of ourselves that our conscious, waking minds are not really paying attention to, parts of ourselves that are still emerging, still in formation. There are many theories about what dreams are, and I believe dreams probably have multiple purposes? One role of dreams is as a reservoir of creativity. Dreams help us process our lives without using the rational mind, or in a way that is complementary to the relational mind.

Paying attention to dreams can be a fruitful spiritual practice. Even if you haven’t remembered a dream in years, you might find that you remember a snippet of a dream here or there just because you read this column. If you wake up in the morning with the sense that you have had a dream, be still, don’t fully wake, just allow your conscious mind to go back inside the dream and review it, revisit it. Notice the landscape, notice the colors and how you feel. Have you been to this place before? Have you felt this way before? Jot down a couple of key words once you have revisited your dream.

Just remembering a dream with your conscious mind now and then, letting it accompany you back into waking can offer some insights or new feeling tones or colors to some aspect of your life. Once you are fully awake, think back over the dream and notice if any parts peak your attention, and invite those into your waking day. I once dreamed I had an armful of oranges, and when I woke I was inspired to draw with my orange pencil. I noticed how much that beautiful bright color was missing in our long dark winter, and how just having orange in my life seemed to cheer me up. Another time, when my son was young, I dreamed of a female lion, and happened to have a little figure of one that I put on my desk. It made me think of all the ways I was like a mother lion, fiercely protective of my son. It made me feel powerful at a time I was struggling with the chores and challenges of motherhood.

More details may come back to you in the simple act of writing the dream down. You could keep dreams in your regular journal if you already have a journaling practice or create a special journal just for dreams. Some folks start the day with their cup of coffee at the computer capturing dreams from the night before in a digital journal. Sometimes as we turn our dreams over in our waking minds insights are revealed, but other important insights may be hidden from our conscious minds, and so sharing our dream with an understanding friend can be fruitful.

When I first started exploring my dreams back in seminary, I wrote in my class notebook “I am concerned that my subconscious will not have exciting new messages for me, only things I already know.” But the more I pay attention, I find there really is something new and radically different to be found in dreams, an invitation to use the non-rational part of our minds. Our dreams are a fresh well we can draw from when we are ready to be surprised, when need reassurance that we are more than our thinking minds.

Seeds of Autumn

There is a lot of poetry written about autumn, much of it praising the brilliant colors of the leaves, and the melancholy as the trees let them go, which remind us of the things we let go of in our own lives, or that final letting go. As I was walking through a park with my friend I asked “what else is there to be said about fall?” She thought for just a moment and then reached up to the nearest tree, a sycamore, to pull off a seed ball. She ran her thumb across it and hundreds of tiny seeds were set free, each with their little puff of fluff that helps them travel. “Seeds – they are everywhere this time of year” she said.

As I have taken my morning walks each day I see that it is true- the milkweed pods with their cottony fluff. The bean tree pods that rattle when you shake them. The gross goo of the gingko tree fruit all over the sidewalk. A shower of little maple-tree wings fluttered by my window in the wind yesterday.

Seeds are the reason of the cranberries and apples and winter squash that show up on our tables at this time of year. Seeds are the reason we have the holly berries and pinecones with which we deck our halls. Here in the northeast the end of fall, beginning of winter there is a great abundance of seeds- so many plants taking this moment to release their investment in the future, feeding us and all the animals who need that nourishment to get through the coming winter.

I usually think about seeds in the spring, when it is time to start my garden, but the plants have been preparing their seeds all season, packing them with the crucial DNA, with a shell to keep that precious material safe until it’s time to grow, with a bit of nutrition to get them started, and with their own unique strategies to help them find just the right spot when it is just the right time to spring to life. All the seeds dropped now by trees, floating on the wind, or squirreled away by squirrels must wait. Many will wait until spring or summer, some will wait for years.

How hopeful I feel as I walk through my neighborhood noticing all the clever plant parents releasing their precious seeds- none of which are going to germinate in this frozen soil. So many of the trees and flowers and weeds that come to life next year will have had their start in this cold and blustery moment. Perhaps it will give you hope too, to think of ourselves releasing our own metaphorical seeds, year after year, some of which will sprout in another season, while others may wait for years to find their right time to grow. Blessings for all the seeds released this season: the ancient wisdom coiled inside their very DNA, the hard protective shell for the waiting, and the faith that the right time to burst forth and grow will come again- as it always does in the ancient cycle of life.

What Heals?

One summer the whole family got Covid. Ugh. I asked my friends on social media for advice, and the frequent refrain was “rest, rest, rest!” My doctor agreed, so I did. Even when I couldn’t fall asleep, I tried to rest. One day when I was feeling somewhat better but still sick I spent some time sitting in my comfy bed reading a book. When I stood up I noticed I was sore. A light-bulb went off in my mind as I remembered that folks who have a serious long-term recovery in the hospital must be turned regularly so they don’t get bedsores. Resting is not the same as being perfectly still.

My wandering mind made another connection-- usually when I have an injury from my yoga practice, or from sitting at the computer, the first thing I try is to not-do the thing that hurts; I rest the parts of my body that are telling me something is wrong. For years I had done this with a particular injury, but no amount of resting seemed to help. Finally my doctor sent me to a Physical therapist who taught me exercises that would help strengthen the muscles needed to support the joints that were hurting.

I hadn’t done any of my PT exercises while I was struggling through the first few days of Covid, but that day I rolled out my yoga mat and did the most basic, gentle exercises. The fatigue and some of the symptoms lingered, but I realized (again as if for the first time) that some problems need something more than rest to resolve. That rest must always be balanced with challenge, with gaining strength and using our capacities. This is true not only for our physical strength and capacities, but for our psyche and our spirit. [If you want to learn more, look up “behavioral activation” for some interesting research on how this can help us with our mental health]

I remember riding my bike up and down the hills in my neighborhood as a kid. I remember how hard I worked to pedal up the hills, and the joy of coasting down the other side. Now that I have celebrated enough birthdays to be officially “over the hill” I think there is a temptation to want to just coast. But as long as we are alive, we must balance resting and strengthening, pedaling and coasting, fiery sun energy and the passive reflective light of the moon. In yoga asana, we are challenged, even in the same pose, to notice which muscles are working, and which muscles can relax and rest (like how clenching your jaw actually doesn’t help with a challenging balance pose). This takes a perpetual discernment- today in this moment, whether I am doing chores, working a busy office job, running a marathon, or recovering from illness or injury, what balance of effort and ease, of challenge and rest would be most healing and fruitful?

Wobbling

My son Nick, in early days of standing on his own, balances on this ancient redwood, a grin of success on his face.

 

Recently I started Physical Therapy for a problem I’ve had for a long time. Frankly it’s making me grumpy. I can’t tell if it’s working, but I ache in new places and I just feel off kilter. There are lots of reasons for us to get off kilter; it could be a loss or injury, a new job or relationship. From new traffic patterns on our commute to a bathroom under construction, even minor changes can ripple out in surprising ways.

I remember noticing, when my son was little, that periods of discomfort and frustration were often followed by leaps of growth, like teething, learning to walk, learning to talk, or mastering some new skill. When we are very young this cycle repeats itself in quick repetition, so it is easy to see that a period of frustration precedes a period of new mastery and confidence. Now that we are older, our growth spurts can be harder to spot. We assume because we are adults with bills to pay and laundry to fold that we are done growing, we are “grown up.”

But living beings are never done growing; being alive always involves change and growth. Our changing world requires change and growth. And as any teething toddler can tell you, growth is not comfortable.

Have you ever watched a child who was just learning to walk? There’s a lot of wobbling as they learn to balance – a lot of falling too. Adults don’t like to wobble. Not only does it undermine our adult sense of competence, but it feels a bit out of control. When my grandmother had a stroke years ago, it took her weeks of physical therapy to learn to walk again. She sounded amazed when she told us that story- both amazed that a full grown adult could have to learn again one of the earliest tasks of life, but also that such learning was possible. Of course not all people are able to walk, and this offers a different form of the same challenge- the wobble of learning to get around in the world in our own way.

I have a friend who was an advanced student of martial arts. He told me that whenever they learned some new sequence that required balance, he would wobble around experimenting. He assumed the other students judged him for wobbling, but he knew that the process of wobbling around in a new position ultimately gave him better mastery of it. Imagine all the years of wobbling it takes Olympic gymnasts to stick the landing, then light up with that victorious grin on their faces.

So if you find yourself feeling wobbly in your ever changing life -- physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually -- perhaps it would help to remember the toddler growing from a crawler to a walker. The bigger the growth and change, the more wobbling may be required. Sometimes a period of wobbling and disorientation means that new growth is just around the corner. Blessings for all who wobble.