Running Through the Snow

Running Through the Snow January 30, 2010


It’s cold out there and running in the cold is not one of my favorite things to do. In fact, my whole body braces against the chill. So I choose to head to the heated conditions of the treadmill at the YMCA. It was warm, and crowded, the steam almost rising from the concrete floor in direct contrast to the steamy cold swirling outside. Wanting to connect with the beauty of the whiteness of the falling snowflakes, I choose a treadmill close to the window.

I began my run in the usual contemplative fashion alternating between active prayer (the rosary, bible verses, and individual prayer intentions) and meditation (awareness of the breath, the physical sensations of my shoes hitting the rubber surface of the treadmill, my beating heart). Settling into rhythm and awareness of prayer and meditation, the snow floating outside the window kept it’s gentle call. I remained in awareness, and noticed rejection of the notion to simply head outside. “I didn’t dress for outdoor conditions,” my mind kept protesting, followed by the gentle response, “Yes, you have a sweatshirt and gloves. That will keep you warm,” my contemplative mind countered.

So I formulated a plan, fifty minutes in the warmth of the treadmill, 5 minutes outside. The excitement of doing something I don’t usually do propelled me out the door. The sharp contrast between my body dripping in the sweat of the treadmill run and the refreshing gasp of the chill air spurred me forward. I floated, almost effortlessly down the street, gliding with the wind. This was fun I remember thinking, exhilarating even. Then I had to turn a corner, heading uphill no less, into the wind. The contrast was not lost on me; warmth, exhilaration, energy with bracing chill, discomfort, escape.

How often life is like this run, I reflected. Sometimes life brings you warmth – a hug from a child, or loving words from a friend. Other times life brings you bracing chill – being let go from a job, a parent’s illness. Sometimes life brings you exhilaration – a successful completion of a project, or a new relationship. Other times life brings you discomfort – the flu, a messy house. Sometimes life events energize you – an acknowledgement of a job well done or discovery of a new talent. Other times the desire to escape overwhelms you – a drawn out divorce, or a long term disability. But in the midst of this run we call life, to be aware of all that it brings, the good, the less than good, I have noticed that showing up, being willing to take a risk and brace out into the chill always brings the presence of the divine. Like the run, the not so pleasant aspects – my uncovered ears, exposed legs, and chilled face – allowed me to recognize the more peaceful moments – the stillness of my surroundings, the freshness in the air, the gentle touch of the snowflakes. Awareness, willingness, and peace are the rewards for showing up, and taking the risk. There may be discomfort in awareness of the divine but the peace that comes is not to be missed.

Journey into the Prayer of Jabez: Day 1

Journey into the Prayer of Jabez: Day 1
January 27, 2010


I decided in my morning devotional to read the prayer of Jabez: “Oh that you would bless me indeed and enlarge my territory….” ~1Chronicles 4:10

Enlarge my territory, give me more to do - more people to influence. I suppose the losing of something causes one to reevaluate their influence. Life often presents opportunities for the shedding away of something: an unhealthy relationship, job, bad habits, and this shedding, though painful at the time, is God’s way of telling us that whatever we were doing was not enlarging our territory. Instead of being discouraged, feeling rejected, or unworthy, we must have been doing what God desired us to do all along.

In the midst of a loss, it is necessary to change ones thinking in this direction, “I must be doing what God intends. He has been directing my path all along. He knows what I need and it is my faith in His almighty power that will carry me through this difficult loss.”

Losing something, or someone important to us is painful. The separation that often follows causes many questions and fears. The thing or person probably brought some joy, some excitement, or some sense of purpose to our lives. If the loss was unexpected then the questioning often begins, accompanied by regret, rejection or shame. “Why did this happen? What did I do wrong?”

But maybe there is another perspective God asks us to consider. Not the one of hopeless failure and despair, but maybe, just maybe the answer to a prayer. “Expand my territory,” we prayed and God answered, closing one door, yet opening at least one more. To realize we have no clue as to what this means, or where we are headed, yet to follow with action is the true meaning of faith. To have no idea what the expanded territory will look like is both exciting and scary. Perhaps our territory is so large, we only get to spend a short time in some places. All the more reason to enjoy where we are, to take full advantage of the present moment. God knows we tend to hang on a little longer that what is good for us. Perhaps he is saying, “I have more for you to do, a wider, deeper, larger territory in mind for you to cover. So I need you to move on. I am showing you the emergency exits right now. Follow them to the territory you asked for. Trust me.”

These are the words of comfort, hope and strength God offers. In reply he only asks us to say, “Yes God, I will go where you would have me go, see who you would have me see, do what you would have me do.” Now you have followed the words of Jabez, “Oh that you would bless me indeed and enlarge me territory…”

Just Do It

Just Do It
January 22, 2010




“Just do it” has been useful to me in so many situations but especially when dealing with difficult life circumstances like illness, depression, job loss... The desire to stay in bed when facing a difficult emotion caused by some life circumstance is overwhelmingly strong. Thank God for Nike for coining this popular, simply stated mantra.

Recently I have found myself facing a difficult and very painful loss. The desire to run away, to hide, to pull the covers over my head has not been, interestingly enough, as strong as it has been in the past. That I attribute to my willingness to grow, to keep in close contact with God through faith and through exercising action.

I continue to practice courage, speaking out, and asking questions when they are needed and warranted in an effort to honor my voice. The world needs the difficult questions. The tricky part, the overwhelming confusing part of this life is how to play peacekeeper in the midst of so much pain and human suffering. How do you have the courage to raise the difficult questions often at the risk of rejection or even removal? Deep, passionate and strong feelings often rub up against others and can be perceived as contention instead of cooperation. Life can be difficult and often is. But the honoring of my own voice, the “Just do it” motto has been a useful tool in bringing the voice of peace to any hurt.

To Write Again - May We Be Peace

To Write Again 1-14-10
I have missed my blog. I have been thinking about it often. But as so often happens, my life has taken a different direction and in the busyness I have been struggling to find time to blog. I am also involved in a new project and have been trying to figure out how to merge my interests in a way that will create something hopeful to write about. My blog is in transition. I have noticed what has happened with my writing and my blog is that once we completed the marathons together, my creative writing started to run out of steam. I was also so involved in academic writing that the part of my brain that thinks freely was becoming encumbered with the internal editor.

But the way to combat any transition phase along with the accompanying uncertainty, angst, and fear is to just begin. So here I am making a new commitment to writing again, to write as interestingly and hopefully as possible about my experiences with life once again.


May We Be Peace
What a strange phrase. To be peace… My recent journeys have brought this phrase to my conscious mind. I have my entire Catholic life prayed for peace. In mass I say, “Peace be with you.” “And peace be with you,” is the reply from the community. It is delivered first as a blessing on the community from the priest, and then extended as an individual blessing when each person shakes the hand of their neighbor and wishes them peace.
I can easily recall prayers of peace offered to God in times of trial, illness, wars, depression, etc. The endless list of human suffering offers a perfect opportunity to extend the gift of peace. The accompanying worry, angst, distress, pain seem to call out for relief through a feeling of peace. “Peace be with you,” seems not only humane, but absolutely necessary.
Most of us are comfortable with the offer of peace. As a culture of action, to do something, to offer words for example makes perfect sense. But what is less familiar and seems to be more difficult is this notion to be peace. Wow… now that seems absolutely divine.
Recently I discovered the phrase, being peace, in a book of the same name by Thich Nhat Hahn, a Vietnamese Buddhist monk and human rights activist. He believes that if we are not peaceful, if we do not know how to be peace, then we cannot share peace with others. This caused me to question in my own mind our practice of offering each other peace in such an automatic, non present way. How many times have I offered peace without the sense of being peace?
In my quest to grow and expand my spiritual condition, I have stumbled upon the method of mindfulness meditation. This is a method of quieting the mind, focusing on the present moment, connecting to the breath and the sensations in the physical body in order to be present in this moment right now with full acceptance of what is.
Through this practice of present awareness, I am discovering the sensations of my body, the feeling of being peace. I am able to recall what this journey of life is all about, an AH HA moment to be sure: To be peace in all aspects of my life, here now with whatever, with whomever, and whenever.
Luckily, life gives us plenty of moments to practice being peace, in the argument with my husband over who should give our son a bath, in trying to get my teenager to get out of bed to go to school, when my computer will not cooperate and allow me to send emails. In these moment of real life, of real struggle, of real angst to “be” peace seems impossible, yet paradoxically through the desire alone seems doable.
So for today, I will practice this idea of being peace, not praying for peace, bringing peace, seeking peace, or even having peace but simply to be.