Hello friends,
I'm recording this at a time when there's a lot going on in the world,
In us collectively,
In many of us personally.
And whenever you're listening to this,
There's a chance that that is also true.
So how to hold it all?
My friend and creative collaborator has a very simple prayer these days.
His morning prayer is,
Whatever,
And his evening prayer is,
Oh well.
Which can sound a little defeatist,
But actually I think there's a lot of beauty and purity in that.
So I want to just take a chance here with you to dive a little deeper into whatever and oh well.
Whatever,
For me,
Invites the idea of allowing whatever is in my perceptual awareness right now to just be.
So it's a matter of whatever is happening,
Releasing myself into it.
That may sound a little abstract,
But here's how it works for me.
So I might be walking down the street on my way somewhere,
Lost in my idea of arriving and accomplishing what I need to do there,
And then I'll glance up and see tree branches moving in a breeze.
And even for a split second,
I will just,
If I'm open and present enough,
Allow that to stop my mind for a minute,
To just completely release myself into the movement of the branches and the dance of the shifting negative space between the branches,
The sky beyond,
Perhaps clouds drifting across.
And then I continue on my way,
But now I'm in a different state of mind.
And I'm no less committed to my day,
To what needs to be done,
To the steps and the actions I want to be part of this day,
But I have even for a moment released myself into something Oh,
Much bigger,
Timeless,
Without agenda,
Without judgment,
Pure beauty,
Pure noticing,
This doesn't make me less concerned about the world or my own personal things that I want to address.
In fact,
It creates more space around those things.
It allows me to respond to them organically,
With less agenda,
With less certainty and more openness,
More awareness to the nuances I may not have noticed before.
And so my friend's prayer of whatever I love,
I take it as an invitation to be alert for whatever arises that I didn't plan.
Noticing a bird singing,
Or the simple sensation of my own breath,
Noticing my aliveness.
And even for the barest moment,
Releasing myself into that makes me less grasping,
Less attached to my sense of doom and worry.
It invites in some space and some possibility for wisdom and for wise,
Unpremeditated response to whatever comes up in the course of my day.
There's a poem by Rumi,
The Persian poet,
Along these lines.
It's called The Guesthouse,
Translated by Coleman Barks,
And it goes like this.
This being human is a guesthouse.
Every morning,
A new arrival.
A joy,
A depression,
A meanness.
Some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor.
Welcome and entertain them all.
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows who violently sweep your house empty of its furniture,
Still treat each guest honorably.
He may be cleaning you out for some new delight.
The dark thought,
The shame,
The malice,
Meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.
Be grateful for whoever comes,
Because each has been sent as a guide from beyond.
And so I welcome the morning prayer of whatever,
And the evening prayer of oh well.
It's a very honest prayer.
So often after the day's news,
I feel a sinking sense of oh well.
But those words also invite a sense of curiosity.
It's a kind of exclamation of surprise.
Oh.
Which invites some inquiry and curiosity.
And the well,
It invites me to notice whatever has come into my awareness in the course of this day.
To notice the layers beneath the immediately apparent layers.
Often when tragic things are happening in the news,
There are just beneath those stories,
The stories of human beings trying to help each other through it.
There are great acts of great kindness and courage that really show the best of the human spirit.
The best of us that can be brought out by really challenging times.
So I'm invited to notice what's well and good,
Even amidst what's broken and tragic.
And to make my heart big enough to hold it all.
The oh well prayer reminds me of the serenity prayer,
Which I often say.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
The courage to change the things I can.
And the wisdom to know the difference.
And for me,
The things I cannot change often have to do with other people's behavior over whom I have no control.
The things I can change are my response,
My courage,
My action,
My self-inquiry,
My curiosity,
My openness to.
God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
The courage to change the things I can.
And the wisdom to know the difference.
And so I invite you friends to hold yourselves gently through difficult times.
When you find your heart clenching and your mind contracted and your worry intensifying,
Invite in those moments of whatever,
Noticing whatever surprising thing might come into your awareness.
The smell of a meal.
The feeling of the breeze on your cheek.
The distant sound of a dog barking.
Allow the noticing to create space,
To unclench the heart,
To open the mind,
To free your beautiful spirit to feeling held.
By the great beauty of this world.
Be well,
My dear friend.
