Wednesday, November 21, 2018

When We Don't Need More Information

Some days, a small inner voice arises spontaneously: "You don't need more information." I know what it means. Whether it's news about things related to my health, my community or the world- there is information we need. But we are drowning in information, often overwhelmed by awareness of how much there is to know that we can now access.

But information is only one piece of participating. We need to sit with the information, holding it tenderly; we need to listen to the intuitive and instinctual responses rooted in our body and hearts; we need to let creativity move through us to find solutions and inspiration to act. 

And, of course, there are times when I (largely unconciously) use gathering information as a way to forestall the need to act or create or just sit in stillness to consider how I might best give to and receive from our shared world.

So, I am going to start listening to that little voice that whispers, "You don't need more information," and pause and ask- Is this information I can use in any way? Is there something I need to act on, something I can work with here to contribute? Is there something I am avoiding by gathering more information? Am I using endless gathering of information to feel like I am doing something that helps shape the world?

And from this pause, from a place of quiet spaciousness we can let the thread that is ours to weave into the collective tapestry find us. ~Oriah

One of the things I love about the photos from Karen Davis at Open Door Dreaming is that they slow me down and offer a reminder of the beauty and spaciousness that is.

Friday, November 9, 2018

Holding It All

This song by Sleeping at Last (the name used by singer-songwriter Ryan O'Neal) both gently challenges and deeply encourages me. The song mirrors my own history of believing I had to try harder, run faster, do more. . . .and reminds us that we cannot and do not need to "earn God's favor."

It's been a very busy week in the world- the US election (with attendant celebrations and disappointments;) the heartbreaking losses at the mass shooting in Thousand Oaks; the fires sweeping through California threatening lives and homes. I cannot think of any of these without feeling both the impulse to pray for those most directly affected and to take a moment, a day. . . to rest and replenish. (Happily one does not preclude the other.)

As O'Neal sings at the end of the song:

I'll hold it all more
loosely, and yet somehow
much more dearly,
'cause I've spent my
whole life searching
to find out grace requires nothing
of me

In the end grace is a gift, an opportunity to be touched by that which is larger, to live it all, to help each other where we can, to take turns so we can both rest and love deeply by participating in the world with kindness. . . to be the flawed and fabulous human beings we are. ~Oriah

Here's the link to the song: