Making Space for the Divine

vabutsy ponderings

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.”

The First Shall Be Last

vabutsy poems 
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

vabutsy poems 
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

God Chuckles

vabutsy poems 
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

vabutsy poems, prayers 





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

								

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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

								

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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


					

		
		
	




			
				


	

		

					
More Than Alright

								

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I couldda done better
I shouldda done better
I wouldda done better

Were I a different I
Or you a different you
Or this world, that world
or the universe infolding 
instead of unfolding 

But I want this I
And this you
Most definitely this you
And we are stuck with this
Particular world
And this unfolding universe

So I decide no
I really couldn’t have done better
And that is more than alright