From Here to There

Someone is praying me to another path.

My path at Loyola has ended its long loving curve in my life. Finding my way here was an adventure in miracles. Most of those miracles occurred behind my back and without my permission yet that didn’t stop me from grabbing the opportunities  and reaping the rewards.

One of those rewards has been this cozy little relationship with Meaning Making. When the call for writers went out, I fell all over myself sending in my submission. When Betsy Davis asked me to take over the role of editor, I couldn’t say “yes” fast enough. My idea of heaven is to sit, read, talk, and write endlessly about spirituality, God, religion, faith, humans, love, and Jesus, and never stir from my laptop.

It was almost a relationship of disordered affection. What else could be more important than writing about what is meaningful in life and how to make meaning, especially during times when it appears that events are meaningless? As a pastoral counselor, I was learning to help people find what Viktor Frankl called their “will to meaning.” Frankl believed, as I do, that when humans reach for more than who they believe they are and find their meaning, they become who they truly are. I was deliriously happy to find my meaning in reading and writing.

Fortunately, my comfort zone was often challenged in the presence of other blog writers. People like Vernon, Glenda, JoAnn, Andrea, and Kate made my editorial life a dream while writing about what compels us to grow, what drives us to find meaning, and what humbles us in our humanity. In them, I found myself. In finding myself, I realized that I have to do more than mouth the witty words and write the pretty paragraphs. I have to live the lessons.

Just as I am compassionate and caring with others, I have to be the same for me. And, yet, I have learned that, no, it’s not all about me. We are the manifestations of the Divine Spirit come to physical life here on planet earth. On my journey here at Loyola, I have learned that I am seeking that which I already am. I found all of me here.

And now I am taking me out there.

Namaste.

Young Adults and Contemplative Spirituality

by Andrea Noel

Today, millennials are investigating themes in spirituality more willingly than formal religion. Across many religious traditions absentee young adults are no longer an exception. They have become the norm. I suppose this shift exists because young adults express disappointment in relationships with families and institutions. More than ever, young adults are alive to the inconsistencies that occur between what they are told to do and what they are shown to do by example. Furthermore, with millennials, dissociative behaviors are customary. This new way of being could have several influences: parenting styles, non-traditional familial structures, technology, social pressures, and or mental health issues.

Additionally, post-modern, global situations have millennials searching for deeper meaning, beliefs, values, and relationships that can offer greater support for self-integration in this convoluted world. Young adults do not only want to cope with the realities of post-modernity, but seek opportunities to thrive in it.

Contemplative spirituality can help enhance the spiritual lives of young adults. Practices in the contemplative tradition offer young adults a path toward prayer, depth, and awareness of the presence of God. When young adults regularly engage practices within the contemplative tradition they can:

  1. Discover and understand their distinct relationship with the divine.
  2. Empower themselves, draw out and build up their overlooked innate strengths and spiritual resources.
  3. Help themselves notice what encumbers and sustains their awareness and reaction to the divine.
  4. Cultivate their spiritual lives through these practices and communal worship.
  5. Interpret or simply be present to their lived experiences of the divine.
  6. Be a witness to the transformation of their perceptions, responsiveness, and overall ways of being in the world.

Since 2009, I have engaged young adults with practices from the contemplative tradition. While I prayed, listened, and responded to the presence of God among young adults, I witnessed how contemplative practices breathed energy into their spiritual lives. Some practices included: meditation, lectio divina, labyrinths, examen, journaling, chanting, collaging, body prayer, group and individual spiritual guidance.

My hope is that exposing young adults to these practices invites them to a deeper encounter of God. I want to empower them with the ability to see their intrinsic value, strength, and connection to God. Contemplative spirituality allows young adults to express their own lived experiences of the divine without judgment, qualification, and with genuine freedom. I believe these practices help to cultivate a regular prayer life, encourages self-discovery, and knowing self in relation to God.

Prayed for

Somebody must have prayed for me.

As I listen to my clients’ stories, I know I have been blessed and prayed for. I never could have landed here on my own.

My story is no more and no less than their stories, and as I look back over the half century that my breath has filled this air, that my thoughts have contained this world, and that my words have expressed my being, I know that I have never been alone. Someone else’s breath has named my name. Someone else’s thoughts have held my sanity. Someone else’s words have prayed my existence.

I know this to be true because even as my fingers find the letters to form these words, my tears find my eyes and release the divine truth that can only be felt within. This truth is unexplainable and its proof can be found in the footprints of my journey.

I never should have lived this long. I never should have created this peace. I never should have found sustenance by the energy of my creativity.

But I did. I found a path beyond confusion. I learned how life is often built on lies and that each of us has the right to find our own truths. I realized that I could make choices that took care of me and the world did not stop turning. The sun continues to meet me on schedule each morning.

Instead of a life of darkness and poverty, someone must have seen me living this life of light and abundance. Instead of a lonely life bereft of company except that of my own shadow, someone helped pray me a family and friends.

And in times of shadow, I simply have to pivot to see what is behind me and I see the divinity that is with me always.

When clients come to me for pastoral counseling and help that appears beyond the reach of human hands, I pray for their blessings and peace. Some of my clients are empty of hope. Some feel absolutely abandoned and alone with their secret horrors and bestial histories. They can envision no future without pain, no time without sorrow, no being without tears.

I will be their somebody.

Self-user friendly

“Every life is many days, day after day. We walk through ourselves, meeting robbers, ghosts, giants, old men, young men, wives, widows, brothers-in-law. But always meeting ourselves.” James Joyce (Ulysses)

Messages come from God/Spirit all the time and they are not always delivered via a burning bush. Okay . . . in my lifetime so far, they have NEVER been delivered via a burning bush, but I get them other ways. As my friend, Deb Rollison, said “if you hear something twice, that may be Spirit talking.”

Last week, fellow blogger,Glenda Dickonson, delivered an article on counselor self-care. That same weekend, before the article was published, the question “how can I practice better self-care?” came from another friend, Stacy, who is also in our pastoral counseling program. Both Glenda’s article and my conversation with Stacy yielded valuable and practical ways to take better care of ourselves.

But there was one practice of self-care that Stacy mentioned which, at first, seemed logical and easy enough. It was “be open and friendly.” Our interpretation was, of course, to be open and friendly to others. As we continued to talk, however, we realized that the question had been how to practice self-care, and so we pondered how to be more open and friendly to ourselves.

The answer did not come easily. Days later, I am still dancing around that doorway wondering how to get inside the open and friendly way of being with myself.

I observe when I am open and friendly with others and ask: am I being that way with me? Am I treating me with compassionate honesty, authenticity, caring, kindness, and acceptance?

I imagined myself as a friend who I have known for a long time. I know all of her challenges, her failures and disappointments, and her secret successes. Parts of life come easy for her while other parts are elusive mysteries that leave her puzzled and asking. I know where anger waits with ferocity (be warned anyone who mistreats children and animals!). I know what will bring her to sudden sadness (none of your business). I ask: am I being to myself the best friend I could possibly be? Am I being as open and accepting of myself as I am with other people?

No, I am not . . . not as often or as well as I could be. For some reason, I have different rules – a set of standards that says I should be-know-act-respond better than, holier than, more knowing than anyone else. Others are allowed to be more human than I am, and therein lies the lie and the key to that door. When I open the door, I discover that the truth is I am just as human as anyone and I am worthy of my own self-love, kindness, compassion, understanding, and acceptance. The same Divine light inspired me to life as inspired you and the rest of humanity.

And every bush around me is breathing another sigh of relief.