Happy New Year - may you dwell in possibility

I am past the maudlin sentimentality of nostalgia that I must traverse each New Year's eve season, and ready to look forward to 2011. Listen, it is a good thing to think like this......the New Year is full of possibility. It's like a new page to turn in an interesting book that is your life. And this book is FULL of rich ideas, adventures, poems and vistas. I have but one New Year's resolution, but it is a challenge. I desire to write a "Rule of Life"... (actually, it is a requirement if I am to get through the "novitiate" stage to become a Benedictine Oblate). And, what, you might ask, is a "rule of life?" Well, St. Benedict wrote The Rule of St. Benedict in the 6th century, which was essentially a "how to" manual regarding the business of being a Monk. So, the Blum Rule of Life will be written as a personal guideline for how I desire to live out my day(s). It shall provide a personal framework for stability, intentionality and purpose. I hope to include poems (of others), wisdom (of others) and my own ideas put together in some orderly manner. It will be meaningful to me to get this done. I spend entirely too much of my days drifting with the prevailing current... I am very much drawn to Benedictine spirituality, and I formally complete my "novitiate" status this year and take my "final oblation" in November, God willing.

Anyway, back to dwelling in possibility... I mentioned a few entries back that I have a ritual every Christmas Eve...it is a late night silent time outdoors alone under whatever weather conditions we are receiving. I sit and wait... and listen for the still small voice of God. I have never failed to sense His presence and a hearing from Him. Usually around the time my hands and feet are becoming numb. So here is how I generally hear from God: (you are free to think me delusional). If you saw the movie "A beautiful mind" there were scenes where numbers and messages "lit-up" in the brain of John Nash. It was nicely portrayed with visual screen effects. Well, something similar happens to me when I am sitting out there freezing, (and, occasionally, at other times). Except what lights up in my head is a verse of scripture and/or a "message" of sorts. And, it is not a verse that I necessarily know from memorization, but I suspect we file away far more than we realize, and somehow, in the process, a file is activated in my head and "lights up". For real.

Here is the verse that "lit up" this year in my head.

"Forgetting that which lies behind, and straining forward to what lies ahead, I press on to claim the prize for which I was called heavenward in Christ Jesus." Those are the words...I believe they are fairly close to the wording of a verse in Phillipians. Hence, I fully believe there is a profound message for me to be found in these words which I have been meditating on this past week.

OK...so here is a poem by Emily Dickenson... she just about nails it.



I dwell in Possibility

I dwell in Possibilty -
A fairer House than Prose -
More numerous of Windows -
Superior - for Doors -

Of Chambers as the Cedars -
Impregnable of Eye -
And for an Everlasting Roof -
The Gambrels of the Sky -

Of Visitors - the fairest -
For Occupation - This -
The spreading wide of narrow Hands -
To gather Paradise -

New Year's makes us nostalgic

Why is that...is it the whole Auld Lang Syne business? Why not look forward? Well, it's an inescapable fact that we must get through that sticky nostalgia and move on. I am quite looking forward to another better year...2010 certainly beat 2009 for me, but I have yet a ways to go to get all that pre-cancer vim and vigor back... I plan on achieving some of that before age catches up with me and slows me down yet again...hey...I did 20 minutes on the elliptical this morning and lifted weights yesterday. That's more exercise than I consciously and intentionally did in all of 1969!

So if we must be nostalgic...speaking of 1969...the kid playing the drum solo about three minutes into this video is 20 years old...and of course, Carlos and the whole band...amazing! I was 18 years old at the time Santana played this in '69...and feeling every note of this song in wondrous awe. (When the movie and album appeared shortly after the concert...it felt like we were all there, even though we missed it live...everyone was either playing air guitar along with Carlos or banging on the table or desk! Everyone!) Imagine... 40 years have gone by. Impossible...but then...when I listen in the right frame of mind...I am right back there still feeling it all!

So, let's drink a cup of kindness...and be thankful for everything that was, is, and is yet to come!

yea, Lord we greet thee...

... born this happy morning
Jesus, to thee be glory given;
Word of the Father,
now in flesh appearing!

The people who walked in darkness have seen a great light; those who lived in a land of deep darkness - on them light has shined.
Isaiah 9:2

Oh, Lord, how mysterious that all sorrow, longing, sadness, regret, doubt, fear and darkness... suddenly swallowed up by your great Light! And somehow...In your great Light we have light... and life!

emmanuel

Christmas eve...there are some feelings of longing that are hard to capture or explain, but Christmas eve brings them out. Every year...I go outside at the very end of whatever the evening holds; the night is usually bitterly cold and quiet...and I sit alone with God for awhile. It does something for my soul. I am not sure what, but it is something quiet and special. If there is one song that captures the mood of it, it is this song. (I can't find anyone who sings it better than Enya) We rejoice, yet we also wait awhile in lonely exile... how many of us celebrate this holiday with a sense of joy, wonder and awe, yet intermingled with it there is a faint (or not so faint) sad longing for something...something we are not entirely sure we have ever experienced...we long for a home the likes of which are beyond our grasp ...if we are quiet enough, just for a little while, we can sit with longing and share it with Jesus, who also knew that longing while he was here with us... I think He did...a whisper of an emotion... or is it just me?

Nonetheless...I wish you warm Christmas blessings of the deepest sort...and may your soul know the kindling heat of God's awesome presence!

advent

Ahhh...the waiting...today (Tuesday) I had my check with the ENT after having some throat pain for several weeks.

There was an incredible lesson for me to learn this morning. As I was driving to Omaha, the sun was coming up (my appointment was at 8AM). As I drove on the interstate, I looked to the left and I saw a beautiful large full moon...I looked to my right and I saw a beautiful sunrise. SIMULTANEOULSLY! It was truly breathtaking. It was one of those...wow...kinds of experiences. But here's the lesson...and I knew exactly what was happening as it was happening. I missed the WOW of the moment I was living because I was ruminating about the exam results and what would happen if the news was bad. Sure, that's understandable. But, for crying out loud, how many times do we get to enjoy the sunrise and a beautiful full moon simultaneously on a wide open plain. OK...I know the end of the story... I'll die...and I'll dwell with God forever. I suppose the least I could do is appreciate, enjoy and be grateful about this breath of time between now and then (the waiting?) to it's fullest.

LESSON FOR STEVEN: Everything. is. as. it. should. be.... all. shall. be. well. and. all. shall. be. well. and. all. manner. of. things. shall. be. well. DO I GET IT, YET? I think it's sinking in!

Everything checked out OK and the pain was likely due to swelling in a salivary gland that doesn't function as it should anymore after being decimated by radiation. Not anything to worry about...and they see no need for me to return for four months. I thank God.

Advent is taking on new significance to me... we are all waiting, sometimes we wait well, sometimes we don't. Sometimes we trust God, sometimes we take matters into our own hands. But no one escapes. Now, for the next few days, I can be in the moment... resting in this Advent season of anticipation. The silent still moment that unfolds before an extraordinary event. It is where we live our lives... and here is a beautiful quote...


“In the silence of a midwinter dusk, there is far off in the deeps of it somewhere a sound so faint that for all you can tell it may be only the sound of the silence itself. You hold your breath to listen. . . You are aware of the beating of your heart…

The extraordinary thing that is about to happen is matched only by the extraordinary moment just before it happens. Advent is the name of that moment.”

Frederick Buechner

brief interlude - a poem

Here is a wonderful poem I stumbled on today. I had to read it a few times. It is airy and optimistic, yet acknowledges the hard edges. Hah! What am I even talking about? I'm no critic, thank goodness! I just like the feel of it.

And when you thought

it was long gone, here it is,
up your sleeve, in your pocket,
tucked under a sleeping cat.
You pull it out, let it fall,
drape it over both arms,
admire it's improbability
a thin-air hammock, woven in light,
to be flung up
between
a cold house and a home,
harsh words and a smile.
Lie in it. It will hold you.


Marilyn Ricci

open your eyes and move (part 1)

This is true: I went through a phase while I was in college where I would "wake up" from sleep in my mind, but I was unable to open my eyes or move. I felt completely paralyzed... it was quite frightening. It probably happened about 20 times. It would last from 5-20 seconds and it would end with me violently shaking myself awake. At the time, coincidently, I was reading a book about some strange Eastern meditation practices in which yogis were able to go to sleep while staying conscious and alert mentally... When I would go to bed at night, I was trying to replicate their experience, but I was unsuccessful...I would either stay awake, or fall asleep, but I couln't do both simultaneously. But occasionally in the morning, it would happen... the only problem was, the feeling of paralysis scared the hell out of me. Oddly, I didn't tell anyone, not even my roommate, what was happening to me. I attributed the cause to one of two possibilities:

1. The meditation technique was in some frightening way operating in reverse in my brain.

2. My use of hallucinogenic drugs was messing my brain up.

Regardless...the experience of being awake (and I was fully awake, not just dreaming I wss awake) and yet feeling my body still "asleep" was quite disconcerting...I couldn't move a muscle or "wake-up" physically.

So I stopped the meditation stuff...of course... but wasn't so motivated to stop #2 possible cause on the list... Anyway, the experiences kept happening for awhile, and then, mercifully, it stopped happening.

A few years ago, I read about a mild disorder that sometimes occurs in young adulthood which produces this symptom. It is one of those things that people outgrow and is not particularly harmful... There is no treatment and no real harm done.

I had almost forgotten about the experience completely until I read that article and realized I was totally wrong in attributing the cause of this weird occurence.

Here is why I am writing this now.

In many ways, and through numerous experiences, I feel I have "woke up" in my life. I have gained insights and wisdom. I have studied and read. I have prayed and meditated and contemplated. I believe I've connected with God.

Yet, in many ways, I am still...asleep. In my mind, I am alert, but I still act as though I'm asleep. Here is a meaningful saying...

The important thing is that when you come to understand something, you act on it, no matter how small the act is. Eventually, it will take you where you need to go.

Helen Prejean


I've just wasted the better part of my lunch break, and I have a client in three minutes, so this entry is going to have to be a two part entry... but for now...I ask myself...isn't that a meaningful quote and relevent to the thought I am having today?

...to be continued

welcome advent into our deepest void

The title of this post is the title of a blog post I read today...and I think I'll copy and paste the post here, because I was moved by it. I read things that I really like and I lose them...but if I put them here (on this blog) they will be easy for me to find. Read it if you care to, skip it if you'd rather; even the title of the post alone is rather profound to me, and worthy of some contemplation!

WELCOME ADVENT INTO OUR DEEPEST VOID.


Thursday, December 2, 2010, 4:16 AM
Elizabeth Scalia


I shed tears of gratitude and joy that you have come round again, O Advent, to shake us from our torpor as early night comes, and the match is struck, and the message is brought home once more; that we are forever in the absence of light; it is beyond us and exterior until we make it welcome and bring it, like a lover, within.
Welcome into our deepest void; welcome into the parts of us touched by human frost, and stunted.
Welcome, O Light, beaming glorious, into remotest apertures of our souls, rays aglow, warmth permeating where we have left old fires unattended and embers to wane, and our abysses to grow chill, and uninhabitable. Welcome light; dispelling illusion, and chasing old ghosts to rest.
Now, the promise is renewed; the story begins again. The beginning; quiescence, empty and void. Then movement; an annunciation; a Word – one boundless, vibrant “yes” that shakes creation; “My soul proclaims the greatness of the Lord and my spirit rejoices in God, my savior!” Soon their will be dreams, and silent wondering, and a gathering, and a starry night rent with song. The Word Present penetrates lonely, lost humanity, and enters into the pain and fear, the tumult and whirlwind; He and sets His tent with us not merely dwelling among, but literally with us; with hunger, with the capacity for injury and doubt -with enough vulnerability to be broken- and within this espousal, everything is illuminated!
I pray with an earnest heart that I might keep Advent at the fore, and the World of Illusions and Easy Forgettings somewhere at bay, where I can not so easily reference it, or be so quickly distracted.
Will I be newsless? No. But I will be news, less, Advent/Liturgy, more.
Each day you and I will be in Advent -the time of coming, that which anticipates all the rest- so that (and this is my heartfelt prayer) when December 25 comes, we will not be sick of it, and the Darkness will not feel glee at our diluted light; instead we will have only just begun to hear strains of ancient song, coming closer in ever-stronger waves. Like a quickening pulse grown stable, and signaling life where it was thought lost. Our longing will only just have become satisfied, and our journey only just begun.
I have a friend whose mother, after a stroke, had very limited speech. If she wanted to wish you well, or express happiness for you, she would say “Merry Christmas!” It meant everything good, everything full of love.
This first week in Advent, let us move forward in humble adventuring, seeking out the divine “Yes” spoken from heaven and the faith-filled “yes” whispered on earth. Let us strike a match and cover our faces in prayer, that the lifting up of our hands be as an evening sacrifice, acceptable. Let us eat figs and drink wine, and work faithfully at our labor, and sweep and sing and slumber, until we gather with shepherds and kings, to meet, and to worship, and to tell what we have found.
Then, if we have only “Merry Christmas” to say for the rest of our lives, all around will understand how packed with meaning is the phrase.