Interrupted Spirit

I received a needed dose of “pick-me-up” this week…

Hello friends,

I sit in my brown wooden swivel chair padded with pillows wanting to find the right words that will share my inner journey with you. The hope is the words you read touch your soul and resonate with a deep sense of peace of being seen and known.

My father-in-law used to sit in this chair and quietly listen to words I would share with him as I prepared a talk or a lesson or just a story. The creaking sounds as he would adjust his position in the chair made me know he was there, listening intently to the message beneath the words.

He is gone now, and I get to sit in the chair and listen to the messages beneath the words that flow from inside. I think, however, that his energy is still here with me, guiding me through these endless minutes of inquiry. My hopes for inspiration as I sit like a hungry bird, mouth open, waiting for insight-morsels to be dropped into my brain. I sit open to the invitation of Spirit.

I have been having a war with my spirit of late. I must assume the battle began as my body began an unexpected health event, causing my body, my mind, and my heart to operate independently of each other versus as a whole unit.

Have you ever experienced how illness or injury can interrupt the flow of your spirit?

The things I wanted to do, I suddenly could not do. The things I normally would feel, I was just too tired to feel. Many of my normal daily tasks were left undone. The place of least resistance was asleep in my bed. And the war of my mind raged at these experiences as though I were a failure. A big fat failure. Alone in my worthlessness. That dark narrow pathway that can lead to dangerous ideations.

All these things continue to battle my body, mind, and spirit as I am struggling to regain physical homeostasis. In the midst of this raging battle, I had the glorious gift of my grandchildren pouring unconditional and boundless amounts of love into me this past weekend, as we frolicked on the beach and in the cold Gulf of Mexico waves, away from this swivel chair and my daily responsibilities. This flow of energy reminded me I still have a purpose. This flow of love is healing the wounds left in my body and brain that want to squash my reason for being. This flow of love provided me with a river of desire to continue to listen with the ear of my heart to what is being asked of me.

It can do the same for you and for us as a community.

Can we do this together? Can we hold each other up when things get tough? Can this be a community where you never have to feel alone? That is my intention. That is my prayer. I invite your reactions to what has been written in these emailed blog posts. If you are brave enough, share some of your experiences and feelings, to the limits of your comfort. Share your thoughts or experiences if you have tried any of my toolbox suggestions. What worked, what did not work? Also, extend the invite to others to learn what we have created and shared here. Maybe they will share their story with all of us. We need to help each other.

Use the comments section at the bottom of each post. Or send me a direct email at [email protected].

This poem was in one of my daily mediations from Father Richard Rohr and The Center for Action and Contemplation this past week. I would like to share it with you as I felt it quite healing and helpful.

Anything that is not love
is only a visitor to your body.

You are not anxious,
stress is simply flowing through you.

You are not permanently depressed,
sadness is simply visiting you.

You are not lost,
confusion is simply wandering within you.

And you are not broken,
pain is simply passing through you.

Words by Tahlia Hunter
Inspired by the poem by Rumi “This being human is a guesthouse”

These words remind me that like Irish poet and author, John O’Donohue has told us, there is a place deep inside each of us that is not wounded, that is not left behind. Spiritual thought leader, Eckart Tolle, calls us to live in the NOW. There is power in living in the now and not in the past or the future. His famous quote:

“Become aware of a silent but powerful sense of presence. There is one certain criterion by which you can measure your success in this practice: the degree of peace that you feel within.”

I felt that peace within while being completely cocooned within the arms of my grandchildren, my son and his wife, and of course Ed. There was no other moment but that moment and that moment, and that moment. It was a blissful whirlwind. My worries of illness and the future were swept away in that loving breeze. I cannot begin to expound on the healing power of love. My interruption of spirit was itself interrupted. This I wish for each of you.

My old brown wooden swivel chair creaks. I know I am being listened to with intent, hearing the message beneath the words. Thank you, Dad.

Before I close

“…There is a place in you where you have never been wounded, where there’s
still a sureness in you, where there is a seamlessness in you, and where
there is a confidence and tranquility in you. And I think the intention of
prayer and spirituality and love is now and again to visit that inner kind
of sanctuary.”
― John O’Donohue

Blessings, friends. Until next time.

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