Slowing Down

A light, but steady snow has created a powdery coating over everything outside.  Maybe it is my aging practicality or that I must make an appointment for myself to remedy anxiety, but I am already thinking about the trek to work.  I go slowly, but everyone else is in high gear.

The first alarm goes off at 5 and I grope in the dark to turn it off.  It is an annoying sound choice, no trill of a harp for me.  The chances of slumbering through an angelic musical ladder of notes is quite high.  I must take my medicine 30 minutes before eating. (This is something new for me-out of the ordinary to have to take anything on a regular basis.) The second alarm goes off at 5:30.  For a half hour I am drifting between sleep and wakefulness.  There is only one cat at my feet and I snuggle deeper into the bed pulling the comforter just under my chin.  I am not too cold nor too hot, but just right, cozy and comfy.  I smile in recognition of this condition of near perfection.

Turning off the alarm and leaving my husband to rest, I pad out to the kitchen.  It has been only three mornings-a routine already.  Oatmeal, a half a bagel, fruit, tea and water.  This is the fare that will sustain us until sunset.  During this nine-teen day period (The Baha'i Fast) I am always surprised by how frequently food and drink become part of my day.  My lunch-time is now spent in prayer.  Often I walk along the woods near my work.  This too helps to create mindfulness and give thanks. Perhaps it all sounds a bit contrived, but The Baha'i Fast is always well timed.  I am able to breathe, slow down and trust all the while creating a sense of gratitude for all.

Discipline and Moderation

At one point in my life, I prayed, meditated and did yoga everyday. Recently, I have given renewed attention to my spirituality and I honestly crave meditation. yoga and long walks in the woods which I find to be meditative.  When I review how I have spent my time each day, I am embarrassed. 

I must  evaluate the quality and need for the activities that eat up my time.  Prayer, work, eating (all necessary), writing, reading and photography (also necessary) and then there's social networking.  Do I have the discipline it takes to moderate this activity?  I have made those promises to myself before, only to be sucked into the vortex emerging hours later with little accomplished.  We got rid of cable TV because it did not contribute to my well-being or the well-being of my family.  For the most part, I have  replaced the nearly mindless chatter of the tube for the highly dysfunctional world of Facebook where dirty laundry is aired, people bash one another with no remorse and proper grammar is entirely ignored.  Why, oh why do I not have better regard for how I spend my time? It is all about discipline, isn't it? Moderation in all things.

Be Like a Fern

Every clock displays a different time.  On days when there is no work, no appointments does it matter?  Responsibilities with time constraints  ruin this plan for me.  I am conditioned to wake up just before the alarm no matter the day, eat on schedule despite my lack of hunger and go to bed before a certain hour.  

Does not the old time farmer adjust his or her internal clock to the cycle of nature?  Generally, I find that during this time of year I long for the comfort of soups, stews and good long books while wrapped under the weight of blankets. Generally,  adjust to the natural seasonal cycles quite easily.  It is during the minute to minute attempts to empty my mind and connect with the Spirit when my mind wildly winds around the constraints of time and doing.  "The mop. The floor Wish I could find that book.  Where is it?  Supper.  I've gotta use up carrots? Chickens.  Bring the scraps. Moldy bread.  Over fridge. When was the last time we...." Rather than the present, I think about the tasks of the future.  It is all about time and my tendency to multi-task.  Touted as a super human feat among woman everywhere, multitasking is the demise to my mindfulness.  Out of necessity, I have been doing it for decades now.  I must retrain myself.  To be.  Quiet, hushed connections.  With this my spirit will grow  in beauty and show up in the most unlikely places, just like those ferns.  

Lessons for Today

Due to the generosity of a friend, I was able to go to Green Acre Bahai School this weekend to study, pray and reflect.  Not surprisingly, it was just what I needed.  My vision is clearer and I have some spiritual goals in place.  Thankfully, I gained insight.  I need to be patient with myself and my human condition.  Sometimes my vision will be blurred and other times I will focus on trivial matters that are not important to my spiritual development.  I will stumble and fall, but I will pick myself up again. The importance of consistent effort cannot be understated.

Tiny Pieces

If I could

Tear away

Tiny Pieces

Of my heart,

I could

Rearrange

And fill in

The emptiness,

And replace them

With

Gratitude,

Joy,

Patience.

If I could

Tear away

Tiny Pieces

Of my heart,

I would.

Potentiality

      The grass soaks my bare feet, each blade, heavy with dew.  I carefully make my way to the garden steadying a mug of coffee in each hand.  My eyes search for my husband, who is bent over inspecting green fruit splayed side by side on a vine.  Nestled in one corner of the garden are twin cedar chairs attached by a little table.  Early morning coffee, the sun on our faces, we are swallowed by green foliage, large sunflower leaves broad, approaching the size of umbrellas shade the north of the garden, squash vines with large yellow blossoms meander with no clear direction of growth, just all over the place.  Floral purples, pinks, whites and yellows frame the perimeter of the vegetable garden.

         Sitting still in the garden is a spiritual experience.  Tiny seeds the origin, yet we, the gardeners are just beginning to grasp the potential.  The element of potentiality is true for all living things.  Sitting still and taking in the beauty makes things all so clear.

Opportunities

I am not a morning person. Seldom do I hop out of bed ready for the day, unless I am catching a plane or one of my kids are sick or something.  I am a, “Just 5 more minutes, pleeease, oh pleeeease!” I often implore my husband who tends to bolt out of bed, awake and ready. 

During this sacred time of the nineteen day fast, the alarm sounds in the darkness of the early morn.  When I was growing up, my family abided by the laws of lent.  No meat on Friday and before the first day of lent you would make a promise to give something up like candy or something as a spiritual sacrifice.  I was never much good at that.  Maybe I was too young, too immature.  But as an adult, I recognize the potency of this time and opportunity for renewal. 

My biggest struggle is to rise in darkness.  I like the light.  The shades are open to allow the sunshine to find its’ way in and kiss me awake in light and warmth.  This morning, my alarm was set across the bedroom, so when it sounded I bound toward it in one leap to turn it off.  The annoyance of the alarm’s tone tends to arouse and I shuffled toward the kitchen for wake-up coffee.   During the fast, all food and drink must be consumed before sunrise.  The night before, I plan my strategy of attack.  How do I get the most sleep in and eat and drink before sunrise?  This morning, I had the cold quart of milk kefir, the mix of whole grain cereals, banana, bowls and spoons all lined up for quick assembly while the water boiled for the French press. This strategy allowed a twenty-five minute period to pass from the time I shut off the alarm to when I sipped the last of the coffee.  I admit, my description is not very spiritual at this point, but as the nineteen days progress, I become keenly aware of the seasonal changes and expansive nature of light.  It also helps to remind me how grateful I am to ordinarily have a full belly and plenty of fresh food and water, while others are without.  That is their daily existence. 

The sacrifice of sleep expands my day of prayer and reflection. With my husband by my side following breakfast this morning and bird song in the background, we carefully selected prayer and sat in silent meditation. 

It is now lunch hour.  I will not eat again until sunset. Instead I will pray when ordinarily I would mindlessly be eating.  Some days are easier to get through than others, but I am ready for the wisdom and guidance that comes with slowing down, living more mindfully, spiritually and taking note of the many bounties I have in my life-grateful that I have an opportunity to grow and affect a change in my world.  A change for the better in my thoughts, words and deeds.