Spirituality, Paganism & Prayer

During this week of Easter, with Beltane quickly approaching, my children and I have been focused, perhaps even more than usual, on living meaningfully and new beginnings. This probably sounds more profound than it is. It's not. It all started with cleaning the house, throwing sh** out (excuse me, 'recycling') and consciously trimming down.

Spirituality is part of daily life here in Mac-Ski Land. Not the structured-organized-religion-type of spirituality that my husband and I grew up with and still admire, but a more visceral and immediate spirituality that keeps nudging and pushing and clobbering us over the head until we pay attention to it, kind of spirituality.

It goes something like this: clean up, simplify, see beauty in the everyday, love deeply, be thankful, appreciate life (that includes the environment which we have an obligation to keep healthy), intend to do good (then follow through and actually do it). 

Sounds preachy. It isn't. It's pretty self-centered actually, but I digress.

I am currently writing an adventure-romance that has myth, magic and pagan spirituality as a back-drop, sort of the way Christianity is the back-drop for Raiders of the Lost Ark. So I sent away for some information from one of the modern Druid societies. My son and I were reading the information they sent to help inspire me while writing my current pages. (An alternative and perhaps more valid reading of these events involves my continued ability to procrastinate whenever I sit down to write...but that's another blog).

Another piece of this involves my continued search for ways our family can help the environment, even if only by using fewer resources and conserving the ones we have.  This has been a constant theme so its energy is ever present permeating the collective consciousness of our household.

So, getting back to my story...

My 12 year old son who makes connections that boggle my mind, and does it with lightning speed, said to me: "You know how you always tell me that saying 'Thank You' is a prayer..." (and for the reader I had forgotten this 'always' conversation so I nodded with parental certainty and answered "yes")

Then he followed with: "So, is saying 'I love you' a prayer too?"

WOW.  Neither an under-graduate degree in philosophy, nor five years of Catholic school and daily mass (I'm not Catholic by the way) nor a life-time of UCC attendance quite prepared me for that one. 

Then the skies opened (figuratively) time stood still and I heard "ahhh" resonating through my synapses. The answer I gave?  A resounding "YES".

The Pagans got this one right.

At least the modern Druids seem to on the face of their statement about who they are, which my son was reading at the time. That statement embodies in part: Love of Life, Love of People, Love of Environment, Peace & Justice, Beauty, Reverence for Ancestors & Story & Myth, among others. (To a writer, this is like crack...again I digress).

My son put all the pieces together and wove them into a thing of beauty I couldn't consciously contemplate in my frenetic and sometimes disjointed life. And he did it in less than a second. Talk about reality check. Time to slow-down,see the interconnectedness of life and smell-the-roses-stupid (that's me I'm referring to). 

So here's what I came up with when my son-induced AH-HA moment smucked me up-side the head.

When we say or think "I love..." we are in fact saying we inherently have the capacity to love and that  capacity (I would argue) is a gift to be thankful for. We are also saying: I am worthy of giving love and I am worthy of receiving it. Again, something to be grateful for; a prayer of thanksgiving or simply an expression of joy for being alive. (Same thing. Different name.)

If this all seems a little convoluted perhaps I should say it's all connected. I suggested early on to my children that when they pray they start with: "Thank you for..." instead of starting with "Please let...X...happen". They can always ask for "X" after they indicate their initial thanks for being here as long as they end with 'Thank you'; sort of a 'Thank You' sandwich if you will.  So now 'Thank You' has become a prayer of gratefulness and they self-identify as praying several times a day (some call it meditation or simply being present and aware of the moment).

My son took it a step farther, enlightening me, and strangely or not, making my universe a happier place by reminding me that Love, no matter what its form, is sacred and a reason for rejoicing in the everyday.

Love as Prayer. Love as Mediation & Meditation. Love as the Ultimate Expression of Life.

Wow, I CAN slow down and listen to the birds and smell the flowers and be thankful for the people who enrich my life and for the peace my home and my environment bring me. I got that part of being alive right. The work of the day is important, but it's secondary to the purpose of the day. This I learned by paying attention to my children. (Can hardly wait to find out what my grand-children will hit me with!)

What a wonderful reason to glory in story-telling and to write romance. It's all connected. 

Thank You, my son, for asking the question. I Love You. (AMEN. So-Mote-it-Be & Blessings.) 

My wish for all of you: Happy Writing, Happy Living and Much Love. And may you all have someone in your lives who asks thoughtful questions.

Peeps flying the Nest.

My son, who turns twelve tomorrow, said to me this morning as I was combing the political and financial news like the maniac I've been since the 'bail-out', "I'm so glad we can hear the birds in the morning. I miss that in winter."

Me too, Buddy.  Me too.

My son gently reminds me of a quote by Don Henley in the song: THE LAST WORTHLESS EVENING "...There are just so many summers And so many springs..."

Is that depressing. NO. Not really. Not if it helps me appreciate the birds in the morning and my son's unadulterated joy in just being part of the human race. Enjoy life. Take nothing for granted. Man, it's good to have peeps around the nest to remind me to seize the day.

I have a tendency to tune out the birds in the morning because I've got bigger or better or more important things to do than sit for five minutes and just enjoy them. That brings me to my peeps and the frantic rush to school and homework and band and karate and...and...and...all of that is BEFORE I drag myself off to work for money and profit and something meaningful to do with my life (which I take quite seriously)...and then the seriousness of the day takes hold...

It's that seriousness that gets me into trouble.

When I slow down and say, it's not the end of the world if we're late for school, or even miss a day to go to a movie or the museum or simply a walk by the lake, I enjoy life a lot more. So do my peeps.

My daughter is graduating from High School this year. She's already taking college classes in the afternoons three days a week. She'll turn eighteen in a few months and I wonder just when I closed my eyes and the beautiful woman she is walked into my life.  

I remember when she was two and she'd say, pointing excitedly to the numerous finches, doves, sparrows, wrens, killdeer and robins as her tiny body jumped up and down: "Burds, mama. Burds!"  Still one of my favorite quotes. It never ceases to make me smile. Knowing this, she says it even today when I'm in a foul mood. I'm going to miss her terribly when she goes to college full time. (But that's another Blog)

Not caring whether I won mother-of-the-year, I took her everywhere with me before she started school full-time. When she started school I kept her out one day a month and we had a "movie day". For all of you who know I work as a child advocate this may shock you. I didn't care then, even though it angered my husband until he gave up, quietly shaking his head certain I was a corrupting force of nature (True, and yet another Blog).

I am profoundly grateful for those days now.  My husband tells me now, so is he.

So when I hear the birds joyfully singing at the crack of dawn I try not to shut them out in order to focus on the serious business of life. Instead I try (and when that fails I force myself) to listen and to greet my day with the optimism and sheer joy that my children bring to each day. Some days it's easy. Some days it takes a focused effort. But being grateful for the day is never a wasted effort and enjoying our spring and our summers is more serious than anything on our collective business calendars.  Business fades. Time spent with those we love lives forever, imprinted on our psyche; intangibly meaningful.

So my friends, may you enjoy the "BURDS"!   CARPE DIEM!

Leigh.

Too Much Information...Too Little Spring.

I've always been interested in what is happening in the world, at least since I can remember. Part of that probably comes from a fascination with princes and princesses and the Loch Ness Monster as a child; and at least with the monster the fascination continues.

Since undergraduate school, I've read the foreign papers sporadically. In Law School, I read nothing but law and romance novels to keep me sane and grounded, and to nurture my happily-ever-after fix.

Lately I've been a news junkie. I read no less than seven papers a day online, which inevitably take me to sites I just have to know about to be more informed and less opinionated. The result? I need romance more than ever. I need to write it and I need to read it and I need to experience it to keep my hair on my head and not in piles on the floor.

I've also found this new need to DO something about what I'm reading; to CHANGE what I can for the better instead of just bemoaning the facts as they stand.

I blame Spring.

I'm also experiencing an unprecedented need to clean and de-clutter and all around spruce-up my physical surroundings. I am also going through a career shift that is major and scary and exciting and once again scary, scary, scary...

So I ask you, what do you do when the world or the news or the stressors we all feel pushing our psychic energy around, threaten your equilibrium? What helps you focus? What makes you want to stand up and do something pro-active to facilitate positive change?

Happy Spring! Here's to less news and more action! Happy Writing...Happy Reading.

Leigh