The Way of the Monk

Yesterday I went to a workshop sponsored by my church called "The Way of the Monk". We learned about several things I've been experimenting on my own with for the past couple years, namely centering prayer, praying with a prayer rope, and the divine hours - chanting the psalms.

It was very cool to finally try some of these things with other people, as I'm never quite sure if I'm doing something right when I'm following instruction from a book. Nothing covered was really new to me, which I think was good, as I could get straight to practically learning/improving.

After a brief introduction to the monastic orders and general way of life, we attempted centering prayer. We were instructed to remove our shoes (something I never have to be told twice - hate wearing shoes when sitting around, and the room was lovely with lots of rugs), and sit on the floor in a comfortable position but with a straight back. I have issues with the whole posture thing, so I cheated a wee bit by leaning up against a couch.

A helpful hint from the instructor was to use a timer. Otherwise compulsive types like me tend to be opening eyes to check clock every thirteen seconds. I was happy to learn when I got home that the watch I bought for the triathlon has a timer, with lights and lovely little bell. She also gave out "very powerful prayer tools" - earplugs! I've used earplugs for awhile, but generally to deal with snoring roommates on the road, never thought about using them for prayer. Makes sense tho - blocking out trains, traffic, dogs, my brother's radio in the other room (especially if the Whiners are on).

We started with six minutes, and it went rather well. After a few people discussed their experiences and we took a break. I wrote down the phrase and some stuff that came to mind in my notebook, but I don't think I will type it here. Suffice it to say that it was a good experience.

The next thing we played with, and I'll say played with because time was running short so we had no time to really experiment with them, was prayer ropes. I'd read about these in a couple places, and wanted one for awhile, but couldn't find one. I got a nice dark green one that is currently gracing the neck of Brother Ted (the monk bear I bought at Whitby Abbey). The instructor suggested as a use for them intercessory prayer, with each knot representing a person, and pray "Lord have mercy on so and so", which pretty much covers everything. I tried it this morning, and was amazed at what names came to mind.

The third thing we tried was the divine hours - chanting psalms. Was very cool. Half of the room faced the other, and sang the first couplet and then the other side of the room sang the second and so on, back and forth at each other. Absolutely gorgeous.

I signed up for both interest in starting a group to pray contemplatively, and interest in going on a retreat. So am very excited to see what happens next!

Of solitude, silence, and meditation

It's hard to find solitude and silence in New York City. In the summer, I love the beach. I go to the farthest field where the buses don't stop and they rarely have lifeguards. On a weekday it's just me, a few surfers and some fisherman. But today was too chilly for the beach. Absolutely gorgeous - sunny, blue sky with fluffy white clouds, no humidity, 69 degrees.

I tossed a towel and my books in my string bag and walked to the park about a mile away, with a stop at Dunkin Donuts for a ridiculously large iced coffee and bagel. Waded through the little leaguers, bikers, joggers, and people sunning themselves to a place where miraculously no one else was, a gazebo in the woods, overlooking the highway far below and the bay. Not exactly silent, tho the highway traffic is more white noise and almost matches the wind rustling the leaves of the trees.



Finished Richard Foster's chapter on meditation in "Celebration of Discipline." He describes three different forms of meditation - meditation on scripture was the first and the one that appealed to me. He points out that meditation is not study, or exegesis, but personalization of the passage.


He quotes Dietrich Bonhoeffer as saying "just as you do not analyze the words of someone you love, but accept them as they are said to you, accept the Word of Scripture and ponder it in your heart, as Mary did. That is all. That is meditation."

Foster suggests "that you take a single event, or a parable, or a few verses, or even a single word and allow it to take root in you."


How do we pick what scripture to meditate on though? Today selecting was easy because I picked something quoted in the boo. Foster quotes Bonhoeffer again as saying one should meditate on the same passage for a week. Fine, but then what about next week? We are reading Genesis in Bible study, and I'm working my way toward psalms in my own reading, tho admittedly have been reading more books that actual scripture this past year. Foster's descriptions of using the "sanctified imagination" to place ourselves in the scene with Jesus makes me want to pick something from the gospels. So, how do I choose?

Today I chose James 1:17 because it was mentioned elsewhere in the chapter, and therefore handy.

All that is good, all that is perfect, is given us from above; it comes down from the Father of all light; with him there is no such thing as alteration, no shadow caused by change.

Some ramblings I jotted down:

God is light with no change of shifting shadow (I know I've read that in another version), like the way the light shifts and shimmers on the leaves and the water. So, pure light with no shadows such as leaves cause. But elsewhere in scripture it says God is the shade on our right hand or something to that effect. (note to self, next time might help to actually bring a bible along) So God is both pure light and shade. How can that be?

The sun is warm but also contains harmful radiation. shade is cooling and safe, protecting. So God is pure light that causes no harm and provides shade?

Am I supposed to be meditating with a notebook and writing things down? And is what I am writing down making any sense?

Bottom line: Not sure if I was missing or getting the point of the exercise. Foster says you don't learn to meditate from a book (darn b/c I like learning things from books). You learn to meditate by meditating. So that is what I am attempting to do.

Sounds of Silence, part deux

Some quotes from the Henri Nouwen chapter "Bringing Solitude into Our Lives", in "Devotional Classics":

A spiritual life requires human effort. The forces that keep pulling us back into a worry filled life are far from easy to overcome.... A spiritual life without discipline is impossible. The practice of a spiritual discipline makes us more sensitive to the small, gentle voice of God. ... Through the practice of a spiritual discipline we become attentive to that small voice and willing to respond when we hear it...

we are usually surrounded by so much outer noise that it is hard to truly hear our God when he is speaking to us... When, however, we learn to listen, our lives become obedient lives. The word obedient comes from the latin audire, which means "listening."

Without solitude it is virtually impossible to live a spiritual life. Solitude begins with a time and place for God, and him alone.

To bring some solitude into our lives is one of the most necessary but also most difficult disciplines... As soon as we are alone, without people to talk with, books to read, TV to watch, or phone calls to make, an inner chaos opens up in us... when we have removed our outer distractions, we often find that our inner distractions manifest themselves to us in full force.

Once we have committed ourselves to spending time in solitude, we develop an attentiveness to God's voice in us... Time in solitude may at first seem little more than a time in which we are bombarded by thousands of thoughts and feelings that emerge from hidden areas of our minds... at first, the many distractions keep presenting themselves. Later, as they receive less and less attention, they slowly withdraw.

As we empty ourselves of our many worries, we come to know not only with our mind but also with our heart that we were never really alone, that God's Spirit was with us all along.

Today after reading this was attempt number two. A bit different as today I have the day off from work, and aside from an appt with my trainer at 4:30, and our end of the year music ministry dinner at 7, I've the whole day to myself. Plus my brother is out of town till tonite, so also the whole apartment to myself. And of course a million things I want to do...

And typing on my new laptop is SO cool.

Attempted 15 minutes this am, at quarter to so that the clock bird would chirp at the hour to let me know the 15 minutes was up. Was fairly quiet, except for the birds, one train, and someone mowing the lawn a couple blocks away.

15 minutes is a long time. Tried my best to not look up at the clock but wait for the bird. I see what Henri Nouwen means about being "bombarded by thoughts." What am I going to have for breakfast/brunch/lunch. What am I going to wear to the gym, and what am I going to wear to the dinner tonite? The next scene in the SG1 fic I'm working on during ficfrenzy on LJ. What books I want to buy on amazon, b/c I have another GC burning a whole in my fingers. Tho I give myself credit that it was books from the list in the back of the above book I was thinking of, never mind the stack of nice meaty fantasy novels on my to read pile, which then lead to Will I drive or take the train tonite, and if I take the train, which book will I take to read? and is it 15 minutes yet?

Oy.

Baby steps, I guess!

The Sounds of Silence

June 6, 2007

Have decided after yesterday's road rage temper tantrum in the car ( which fortunately no one but my steering wheel saw/heard) that I really need to start practicing some spiritual discipline, aside from my usual practice of getting up, drinking coffee and reading for awhile before work. These past few weeks I feel really out of touch with God, unsure how to meaningfully pray, and in need of... something.

The first discipline I decided to try is silence. I've read many references to silence; Thomas Merton, Kathleen Norris, Richard Foster, Tony Jones, to name a few authors who espouse it. My practical brain wants step by step instructions, but I'm finding to my frustration that I have to figure it out for myself.

So, this morning I read the chapter on silence in Tony Jones' "The Sacred Way", and then started with 10 minutes of silence, sitting cross legged on my bed, with my ubiquitous cup of coffee, door closed and cell phone off, and tried to just listen.

I heard birds, trains, buses, clanking pipes from the plumbing supply place across the avenue, Jose the maintenance guy talking on his cell phone in Spanish (the office is below my window), and various other voices in the distance.

Tried to clear my mind and kept thinking about what I was going to write in my journal, and whether someday I will be able tp publish all my great, inspired writings. Talk about getting ahead of one's self.

Alternately, my mind kept wandering to the lyrics of the U2 song "Yahweh", which I suppose is a start.