After the laundry, the ecstasy
May. 21st, 2010 11:21 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
theatokosMost of my days are filled with thoughts about religion/spirituality/theology/practice/the Divine/etc/what have you. If I'm not reading about theology and the Virgin Mary, I'm reading about yoga or devotion or magic or some such. Or I'm doing yoga, or walking and praying and noticing and being. One of the many things that has been a blessing about being a mother is having to integrate my spiritual practice into my life in a more holistic way. I no longer have the luxury of huge blocks of time where I can do yoga for an hour and then seamlessly move into 30 minutes of meditation (I'm not sure I am physically able of that anymore!). Instead, I get ten minutes here, 5 minutes there, maybe 20 minutes if I'm lucky.
This carving up of my focus is as frustrating as it has been transformative. With all the esoteric and theoretical reading I do it's good to focus on practice. The practice reminds me that in many ways all the theory and fine details don't mean as much as we academics and theoreticians believe. At the end of the day no matter what our beliefs most of us have to pay our bills, feed our kids, clean the kitchen, answer the phone. I'm reminded of the book title "After the ecstasy, the laundry." Most days I barely touch the ecstasy. Or at least, it's the kind of ecstasy that I might miss if I wasn't paying attention. The sweet, quiet kiss of warm breeze, the hum of the bees, the soaring of the red kites high above the houses, a little boy who is so excited by the rumbling of the loriau, the peace that surpasses understanding. Most days these are the things that open me up to the divinity that I know is present in our world. It makes me think that all our spiritual differences aren't as big we make them. When it comes down to it we all want clean water and happy children; we all need to pay our bills and be loved. Sometimes a smile and thank you feels more holy than all the prayers I've ever said.
I think of the Buddhists who are out there praying for us, that we all might be free of suffering - and I am grateful that my frustrations and fears are being prayed for. I think about my Jewish friends who light candles on Shabbat. I think of my friends singing in church on Sundays. I think of my non-religious friends who make art or pursue the science of this amazing world we live in. May we all be free, may we all be loved, may real transformation come to this world and each and every one of us, that we may no longer live in fear or pollution or discrimination or exile.
This carving up of my focus is as frustrating as it has been transformative. With all the esoteric and theoretical reading I do it's good to focus on practice. The practice reminds me that in many ways all the theory and fine details don't mean as much as we academics and theoreticians believe. At the end of the day no matter what our beliefs most of us have to pay our bills, feed our kids, clean the kitchen, answer the phone. I'm reminded of the book title "After the ecstasy, the laundry." Most days I barely touch the ecstasy. Or at least, it's the kind of ecstasy that I might miss if I wasn't paying attention. The sweet, quiet kiss of warm breeze, the hum of the bees, the soaring of the red kites high above the houses, a little boy who is so excited by the rumbling of the loriau, the peace that surpasses understanding. Most days these are the things that open me up to the divinity that I know is present in our world. It makes me think that all our spiritual differences aren't as big we make them. When it comes down to it we all want clean water and happy children; we all need to pay our bills and be loved. Sometimes a smile and thank you feels more holy than all the prayers I've ever said.
I think of the Buddhists who are out there praying for us, that we all might be free of suffering - and I am grateful that my frustrations and fears are being prayed for. I think about my Jewish friends who light candles on Shabbat. I think of my friends singing in church on Sundays. I think of my non-religious friends who make art or pursue the science of this amazing world we live in. May we all be free, may we all be loved, may real transformation come to this world and each and every one of us, that we may no longer live in fear or pollution or discrimination or exile.