CHAPLAINCY
Acknowledging these creatures as brothers and sisters…all beings of birth and death….all beings of earth and dust of stars…and all earth bodies drumming out their song…listening to this one supernova life-flash here on earth…heartbeat of the insects…heartbeat of the birds…heartbeat of the fish…heartbeat of the bears…heartbeat of the deer…heartbeat of the mountains…heartbeat of the trees…heartbeat of the stones rolled in the oceans deep…
Earth Meditation, Katy Dion
Earth Meditation, Katy Dion
Space for Chaplaincy
Shall I make space for rage? Shall I make space for judgement and petty meanness? What about cruelty – is there space for cruelty?
Is there space for discomfort and the frustration of feeling unseen and unheard?
Shall I make space for this anxiety that whirls through my chest and belly much of the time?
Shall I make space for the voice that tells me I do everything wrong and everyone hates me? Is there space for this tense drive toward a mistake-free life?
Shall I make space for love and joy and celebration or remain caught in everything that seems wrong and painful?
How about grief, is there room for grief? And all the hidden shame and disgust and hopeless mistrust of my own life experiences, shall I make space for those?
What happens if I just allow everything to be as it is and accompany myself on this journey through life? Is that chaplaincy? Is that ‘letting go’ in a skillful way? Or ‘giving up’ in a despairing way and accepting things that the heart longs to fight against?
Can I make space for everything that’s already here? And will discernment of when and how to skillfully act begin to emerge if I do?
Sarah Mussulman
Shall I make space for rage? Shall I make space for judgement and petty meanness? What about cruelty – is there space for cruelty?
Is there space for discomfort and the frustration of feeling unseen and unheard?
Shall I make space for this anxiety that whirls through my chest and belly much of the time?
Shall I make space for the voice that tells me I do everything wrong and everyone hates me? Is there space for this tense drive toward a mistake-free life?
Shall I make space for love and joy and celebration or remain caught in everything that seems wrong and painful?
How about grief, is there room for grief? And all the hidden shame and disgust and hopeless mistrust of my own life experiences, shall I make space for those?
What happens if I just allow everything to be as it is and accompany myself on this journey through life? Is that chaplaincy? Is that ‘letting go’ in a skillful way? Or ‘giving up’ in a despairing way and accepting things that the heart longs to fight against?
Can I make space for everything that’s already here? And will discernment of when and how to skillfully act begin to emerge if I do?
Sarah Mussulman
Mirror of the Mind
Once upon a day, Once up on a tall hill I climbed. At the top stood two pillars of stone, dome-shaped. They framed a view to the North and appeared immovable - with weight and with height and with a sense of dominance and dominion over all they surveyed. Circling them by foot the illusion evaporated and the spell broke as doors appeared in each of them, one facing West toward the Ocean and the setting sun, the other facing East toward the Forest and the sunrise. Inside each dome was a small hand-carved wooden bench facing a companion of itself - here was a reverent hollow for two. Sitting inside, looking upward and outward, I saw that stone was not at all. Rather, wire mesh covered in small shards of coloured glass forming solar systems and galaxies swirling together into apparent solidity through which, actually, light streamed and shone. Sitting inside, looking upward and outward the sheer weightlessness of the domed structures made me smile. Returning to the spot from which I had first perceived the pillars my mind played , back and forth, with their two realities - One solid, stone, domineering, and unyielding, One penetrable, hollow, playful, and bendable. In them, I saw through to A mirror of the mind: stubborn and impenetrable pliable and light and filled with illusion and delusion. Each morning, I climb another tall hill while sitting on the cushion and choose the domes, or the pillars, through which to frame my view of the world for that one moment, for that one day. Reflections from Camp DoubleBear September 3-7, 2019 Kerstin Goldsmith |