Sometimes Not often but sometimes I feel each breath As creation One day Perhaps not very distant now I will breathe in And not breathe out again Or perhaps I will breathe out And then not in again And some part of this created me Will die Some part of this once me Will no longer be me Some parts may Become A fuzzy dandelion With once me nodding in the grass Or a fat worm Taking once me into the dark rich earth Or a speck of cosmic dust Swirling what was once me through the infinite universe I trust that I Will always Be created and recreated In divine love
Author: vabutsy
Making Space for the Divine
I am doing a six session online class on “Centering Prayer as Divine Therapy” led by Jana Rentzel at CloserThan Breath. ( https://closerthanbreath.com/ )
Monday, during the third class, Jana led us in a Lectio Divina practice, using a verse of our choosing from the Lord’s Prayer. I chose “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
After the Lectio Divina time, Jana spoke of kenosis “self-emptying” – and at first I thought an immediate NO – I want to be myself, not empty myself. But then Jana spoke of our “self-talk” and I realized how very often my self talk is negative: wants, needs, inadequacies, irritations or disappointments that I can’t let go off, ever lengthening to do lists.
Jana quoted Cynthia Bourgeault, “…love made full in the act of giving itself away.”
And like the traditional light bulb at an AHA moment, I realized the paradox of kenosis: Only by emptying myself of my own self-talk can I make space for the self-fulling love of God; the divine love that allows me to forgive those who have wounded me (including myself) and to experience the love made full in the act of giving itself away.
And so I was brought back to my verse from the Lectio Divina practice, with new appreciation for the depth and promise and sweetness of “forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
I Am A Woman
I am maiden She who will become I am mother She who has borne I am crone She who loves And is loved.
The First Shall Be Last
If the first Shall be last And the last, first Then let me drown out The world’s noise With my silence Let me answer The world’s questions With my ignorance Let me seek The divine In the mundane Let me share Generously From my poverty Let me believe A crucified criminal Is God’s anointed Let me pour new wine Into old wine skins And rejoice at the bursting If the first Shall be last And the last, first Then let this imagined me die That the unimaginable true I May live eternally and divinely With You My Love
Breathing Words
I spent most of 1973 as a pregnant hippie So of course I learned LaMaze breathing With my partner That was the first time I became aware Or at least the first time I knew myself to be aware Of the power of breath DUH! Breath keeps us alive Without breath we are dead Dead as a doornail (Is that the right expression – it sounds so odd) How much more powerful can breath be Than keeping us alive? Ah, I sigh My nose inhales (though my nose is filled with COVID germs) to a strong quickstep 1, 2, 3, 4 Then stillness 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 As my breath pauses Six nanoseconds of balance My exhale is a long gliding waltz 1..2..3..4..5..6..7..8 Through pursued lips A little bit of LaMaze A little bit of pranayama A little bit of centering prayer A little bit of mind-body-spirit connection I inhale 75 years I pause here Before I slowly exhale compassion And, When I am very lucky, Words
Sshhsshh…
I feel the need to move quietly speak softly whisper prayers tip toe in the garden lest I startle peeking spring back under her covers
God Chuckles
Five minutes to midnight Five minutes to tomorrow Five minutes to Tuesday Five minutes to February 7, 2023 Five minutes – Three minutes now – To the day Mom leaves our home And enters assisted living Busy day today Beginning with early morning yoga Ending, a few minutes ago, With vacuuming the downstairs My corned beef and cabbage Was a big success Luckily I made plenty Because I forgot That I had told Andi to come For dinner Mom was anxious all day Worried about everything From needing new shoes To where she would put Her toothbrush I worried too Will she adjust Will she make friends Am I being selfish Now Now that I have written my way Into tomorrow I will be still And know That God Chuckles Lovingly At worries About toothbrushes And selfishness
As Pharaoh
As Pharaoh Of my own life I make treasure Of false gold And enslave True treasure I harden my heart I turn my gaze on others Demanding their service I hold myself mighty I rest in comfort On my enveloping couch Ah, Lady Wisdom Hear my prayer Save me from myself Disturb my comfort Lower me While loving me Turn my gaze inward That I might see myself clearly But with your compassion Soften my heart Please Lady Wisdom Soften my heart Again and again Do not look away Watch for the first Brittle hardening Like frost across the windowpane That will hardened my heart into ice Please, Lady Wisdom Do not look away Only breathe, breathe Your soft holy mother breath Onto my hard freezing heart When the frost of anger threatens To harden my heart Exhale your soft holiness Into my soul And soften my heart
Centering
Saturday The first day of my virtual Online zoomed Oh so very post-pandemic Centering prayer retreat Was interrupted for me From noon to five When I played bridge With my mother And two friends Our weekly gift To a 98 year old Who is still as keen If not still quite as sharp Bridge and wine Beef stew and a thanksgiving prayer Family and friends And many repeated words For Mom Whose hearing aids - She often calls them ear plugs Never seem to work quite good enough Goodbyes and hugs Dishwasher loaded Hands in soapy water With pots and pans And Mom’s silver gravy spoon Outside the kitchen window Though it is dark now I see our trellis Beautifully burdened with Carolina jasmine Our towering, shaggy spruce Behind our newly planted Japanese maple And the faint glow from Mom’s Blessed Virgin Mary statue - Survivor of Hurricane Katrina Snuggled into our garden Between the shed and trellis In front of the azalea That will bloom astonishing deep red For crown and cloak Come spring Did I really miss Centering prayer Or did I simply live it?
Love Now
Four year old Milo enters Already chattering Like an impatient blackbird My mother calls from upstairs And begins her complaint As I am still mounting the stairs Our dog gets restless Waiting for her morning treat And almost murmurs her feed me bark The stack of mail to be dealt with Yells at my eyes Every time I look at the side table The laundry basket With the lid that won’t quite close The dirty dishes in the sink The empty bookcase waiting to be moved The bathroom to clean The baker’s rack to paint The new towels to order All shout, demanding attention While Woody waits patient Though the morning grows long And I still hide in the bedroom Reading, writing, praying, dozing Regrets and hopes Wants and needs Past and future Scream, “Pay attention to me” If I am not careful I will miss the quiet entrance And soft speech Of Love now
Butsy's Blog 