whol(ē)ness V

“The world is not a problem to be solved; it is a living being to which we belong. The world is part of our own self and we are a part of its suffering wholeness. Until we go to the root of our image of separateness, there can be no healing. And the deepest part of our separateness from creation lies in our forgetfulness of its sacred nature, which is also our own sacred nature.”

Thích Nhất Hạnh, ‘Spiritual Ecology, The Cry Of The Earth

 

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

 

Young Bee Balm After Rain 2019 © Julia Haris

whol(ē)ness IV

Before enlightenment, shovel soil, plant seeds.
After enlightenment, shovel soil, plant seeds.  — JH

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

 

Opening 2019 © Julia Haris

whol(ē)ness III

 

You are whole and also part of larger and larger circles of wholeness you may not even know about. You are never alone. And you already belong. You belong to humanity. You belong to life. You belong to this moment, this breath.  —-  Jon Kabat-Zinn, ‘Mindfulness for Beginners’

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

 

 


Wassily Kandinsky. Several Circles. 1926. Oil on canvas. 140 x 140 cm. The Solomon R. Guggebheim Museum, New York, NY, USA.

 

whol(ē)ness II

The second in a twenty part series. Click here to listen:

 

whol(ē)ness I

We are whole: our deepest happiness is intrinsic to the nature of our minds, and it is not damaged through uncertainty or change.”
— Sharon Salzburg 

whole·ness  
/ˈhōlnəs/  noun
  1. 1.  the state of forming a complete and harmonious whole; unity: “the work lacked a sense of wholeness and meaning”
  2. 2.  the state of being unbroken or undamaged: “the wholeness of the buildings is exceedingly well preserved”

 

The first in a twenty-part bi-weekly series.

Purity and pollution motifs run through human culture, and these themes express themselves most vociferously in our religious traditions. But what if wholeness instead morality informed our understanding of ‘holiness.’ With wholeness leading our idea of holiness, we witness how the fabric of the interdependent universe beautifully hangs together, on its own, in the Present moment.

In life’s poetic and quantum tapestry, our lives become a luminous and radically important thread in this whol(ē)ness.

whol(ē)ness offers a unitive, healing, helping way of being, instead of tying ourselves to unrealistic and culturally determined purity-pollution norms. Steered by intentional, transformational practices, whol(ē)ness allows us to live in and with awareness, instead of acting from internalized feelings of guilt, failure, insufficiency, striving, success, sanctimony, and superiority.

It’s the mystical path, the creative call, the Voice underneath all voices, the Voice uniting the world’s prophets, poets, seers, visionaries, and luminaries, no matter how grand or modest the life.

I hope you will join us. — JH

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

 

Sacred wheel of creation by Hildegard von Bingen

 

Interim III

‘And in this he showed me a little thing, the quantity of a hazel nut, lying in the palm of my hand, as it seemed. And it was as round as any ball. I looked upon it with the eye of my understanding, and thought, ‘What may this be?’ And it was answered generally thus, ‘It is all that is made.’ I marveled how it might last, for I thought it might suddenly have fallen to nothing for littleness. And I was answered in my understanding: It lasts and ever shall, for God loves it. And so have all things their beginning by the love of God.

In this little thing I saw three properties. The first is that God made it. The second that God loves it. And the third, that God keeps it.’

Julian of Norwich, Revelations of Divine Love

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

 

The Julian Center on the web.

Anchorite definition, history on Wiki

 

Unknown artist. Sourced via a Pinterest board to this blog entry.

Interim II


Image Credit: NASA

Audio reflection and meditation, click here:

Interim I

Hello friends and subscribers,

Beginning next week, we’ll have a series of interim meditations and short entries as a new series comes together.  The new series is an extended, thematic meditation that embraces the personal and shared transitions we’re experiencing. I’ll reveal the theme (surprise!) when the first entry is posted., which I hope will be in two weeks, perhaps three.

I chose today’s Oprah quote — which echoes Dickinson — because it’s easy for us to be pulled into unconscious, habituated thinking when we’re stressed, anxious, depressed. We can create unnecessary psychological prisons when circumstances seem overwhelming and uncertain.

But uncertainty can be a gift, and it’s the privilege of a lifetime is to be shaken beyond our limitations. It’s takes courage to deeply live hope, to breathe possibility, and to give the world uncommon joy during sorrow. And if giving joy isn’t appropriate, we can gently extend at least a promise of brighter days. And if extending the promise of a brighter day seems untimely, we can simply hold a space for others. We can just be, be in our life, be in our possibilities, be aware, be compassionate.

“Being” is our most skilled and luminous gift.

The audio entries previously posted here have differed from many that I see being  recorded/written/zoomed at a dizzying rate during all things coronavirus, because I’ve avoided the ‘managing stress’ theme. Instead, I’ve embraced uncertainty as the primary catalyst that leads us into new, unexpected, transformative ways.

I’ll continue to do so.

It’s the perennial promise of summer solstice during winter’s darkest night, to rely on our Great Mother’s recurring natural metaphor.

“I dwell in possibility.”

Faith, hope, love, and the stuff of possibilities are the ground on which the world’s religious traditions rely when they’re at their best. It’s the stuff of the mystics, and it’s the stuff of the life we’re born to live.

As an aside, I invite you to check out my recent site update, available on the home page by clicking here.  You must visit the home page, or the changes won’t be obvious.

Like it? Don’t like it? Have ideas you’d like to share about the site or its content?  Please email me at julia@juliaharis.com.

I appreciate you being here, and it’s an honor to have you on the journey.

Please stay safe.

P.S. Here’s a video that came up in my Facebook feed this week. Well worth your time: Psalm 23 For Me

(This entry was generously supported by a koan creative. Many thanks.) 

“Our true home is not in the past. Our true home is not in the future. Our true home is in the here and the now. Life is available only in the here and the now, and it is our true home.

Mindfulness is the energy that helps us recognize the conditions of happiness that are already present in our lives. You don’t have to wait ten years to experience this happiness. It is present in every moment of your daily life. There are those of us who are alive but don’t know it. But when you breathe in, and you are aware of your in-breath, you touch the miracle of being alive. That is why mindfulness is a source of happiness and joy.” — Thich Nhat Hahn 

 

After tonight, we’ve no below freezing (32 degree) temps here in Maine. Last year’s pansies are performing an encore. The robin family has returned, I cut the red chard and enjoyed it for lunch yesterday. I planted seeds — tomato, beet, chard, spinach, kale, broccoli rabe — for transplant last weekend. And I have three yards of loam, peat moss, and worm castings to mix, so that I can empty the beds and planters and fill them with quality growing soil,

Spring. The work, the joy, the rebirth.

The awakening,

Here is Kitschy, the peace sign bear, who found me at a yard sale. He’s gently reminding us that peace is within, to give ourselves only to that which serves the soul, and to breathe.

Peace Bearer 2020 © Julia Haris

Thank you for being part of the journey.

Until Saturday.

 

Kindness

Naomi Shihab Nye

Before you know what kindness really is
you must lose things,
feel the future dissolve in a moment
like salt in a weakened broth.
What you held in your hand,
what you counted and carefully saved,
all this must go so you know
how desolate the landscape can be
between the regions of kindness.
How you ride and ride
thinking the bus will never stop,
the passengers eating maize and chicken
will stare out the window forever.

Before you learn the tender gravity of kindness
you must travel where the Indian in a white poncho
lies dead by the side of the road.
You must see how this could be you,
how he too was someone
who journeyed through the night with plans
and the simple breath that kept him alive.

Before you know kindness as the deepest thing inside,
you must know sorrow as the other deepest thing.
You must wake up with sorrow.
You must speak to it till your voice
catches the thread of all sorrows
and you see the size of the cloth.
Then it is only kindness that makes sense anymore,
only kindness that ties your shoes
and sends you out into the day to gaze at bread,
only kindness that raises its head
from the crowd of the world to say
It is I you have been looking for,
and then goes with you everywhere
like a shadow or a friend.

On poets.org

 

Quiet

Today’s been an effortless, serendipitous flow of spring cleaning, getting the upstairs patio ready for growing, starting yard clean-up, and quality time with a gardening friend.

The patio this evening seems limitless in calm and solitude — sixty-three degrees, clear skies, the river rushes in exuberant abandon, and the bluebird family has returned.

Here’s to life’s unfolding wonder, and spring’s arrival.

May our hopes quiet our fears, and may we hold those who circumstance has put into the frontlines of caretaking in our hearts. May they receive all that they need: support, safety, and the goodwill and conscientiousness of every person capable of right thinking and action.

May wise leadership emerge, and may we learn and listen in this time of transition.

Until next time.