Year of Spiritual Thinking 4.3 (Month 4, Week 3)

The Light of Love

The light of love is always in us, no matter how cold the flame. It is always present, waiting for the spark to ignite, waiting for the heart to awaken.

—bell hooks, All About Love: New Visions

Living With My Heart Outstretched

In this Year of Spiritual Thinking, I’m reading and noticing what inspires me, pondering what I believe and how I can walk more spiritually through this life. I’m finding new rituals and seeing old ones anew.

One ritual I have done for a long time may seem inconsequential, but has been proved to be powerful for me. Last thing at night, before I drift off to sleep, I say an intention to myself. It begins with a line paraphrased from “Goodnight America,” a Mary Chapin Carpenter song:

I am living with my heart outstretched as if it were my hand.

By which I mean doing my best to live each moment with love for this world, for myself, and for all of the lives with whom with share this earth. I’m doing my best to live with an awakened heart, as bell hooks put it, open to the possibility of that spark igniting.

I’m not talking about romantic love. I mean enduring tenderness and compassion, warmth and caring. I mean living with humanity, approaching all life with lovingkindness. Practicing terraphilia, our inborn, cell-deep affiliation for this planet and the lives with whom we share it.

I believe that living with love is the ultimate aim of our lives. That there is no point existing, taking up space and consuming air, water, food and the other necessities if we can’t live with love, each and every day.

In 67 years of an interesting and sometimes very difficult life, I have learned that money doesn’t last, fame doesn’t last (though infamy may!) and power doesn’t last. Possessions are only so much “stuff” that someone else has to deal with after you die.

What Lasts

What lasts? The light of love. The compassion and kindness we share, the moments of true connection and empathy and joy in the midst of the pain and fear, anger and hatred swirling around us. Love shines through all that. Love endures.

Maybe that sounds simplistic or naive. I might have thought that before I became acquainted with life’s other half, our endings, by shepherding three of the people I love most in this life—my husband and my mom and dad—through their deaths.

What I remember most about those painful and difficult—and also transcendently beautiful—journeys are the moments of shared laughter, the affection, the sweet stories. The kindness of medical practitioners, strangers and friends, caregivers. The times we could acknowledge our fear and anguish and also the fragility and grace of this precious existence.

Of course I also remember the bedpans and pull-ups, the frantic hospital trips and frustration, the need for comfort and reassurance (for both caregiver and cared-for), the tears and times I lost my patience, the exhaustion of doing my best to be present as bodies failed and minds struggled to keep up, as our time together came to an end and they left this life for whatever is next.

But it is the love we shared along the way that resonates still, years later.

And the only peace this world will know/ can only come from love.

—singer/songwriter Carrie Newcomer “I Heard an Owl”

I am still figuring out how to live in this life as a solo traveler, still learning who I am and why I am here. Which is part of the reason for this Year of Spiritual Thinking, this un-programmed exploration of what spirituality means to me and how that might be useful to others.

(For more on this project, read this post I wrote last December, when I began the year-long exploration just after Winter Solstice.)

A Challenge: Do the Good in Front of You

Last week I picked up Finding Your Way: Meditations, Thoughts, and Wisdom for Living an Authentic Life by Insight Meditation co-founder and teacher Sharon Salzberg. It’s a book of short reflections designed to inspire in small bites. Tidbits to chew on in the midst of everyday life.

The first one that struck me was very much in line with living with love and practicing terraphilia:

Do the good in front of you, even if it feels small. —Sharon Salzberg

With that in mind, here’s a challenge for the next few weeks: Notice opportunities to “do the good in front of you,” and note what happens.

The good in front of you can be as simple as offering a smile to a stranger, extending a helping hand, deciding to respond with kindness instead of hurt or anger. or thinking before speaking or posting on social media. The good in front of you is simply every time you choose the path of active lovingkindness.

Every kindness, large or slight/ shifts the balance toward the light.

—Carrie Newcomer, “Lean In Toward the Light”

Keep a daily “do the good in front of me” log of those opportunities and how you respond. Note what you are learning. And share in the comments if you wish!

What I’m Listening To

Beyonce’s “Blackbiird” from her new Country Carter album: A luminous and haunting version of Paul McCartney’s song from the Civil Rights era.

Carrie Newcomer’s “Holy As a Day Is Spent”: A gorgeous reminder of the inherent sacredness in the quotidian.

The Story Behind My Book-in-Progress

Watch “The Ditch and the Meadow,” my talk about the accidental ecological restoration project that changed my life and the life of my neighborhood in the small town of Salida, Colorado. Thanks to Dr. Maggie Gaddis, Executive Director of Colorado Native Plant Society, for the opportunity to talk about the project and for recording the talk.

Blessings to you all!