Recently I was talking on the phone to a friend, and she was so happy with the beauty of that springtime morning, that she was singing the song, “Jesus loves me, this I know. For the Bible tells me so.”
She asked me if I knew it. Of course, I did…who doesn’t? And her inquiring if I knew this widely-known children’s song got me to thinking.
Beginning way back in childhood we receive messages about what is sacred, and more specifically, what is sacred script.
Based on your culture, you may be ushered toward the Torah, Quran, the Vedas if you’re Hindu. Certainly Jesus and the Bible take center stage in our culture.
These scripts are sacred for sure, offering guidance to millions for millennia.
Depending on the lens you use about what should be considered ‘sacred’ there are many writings that extend beyond the ‘official’ ones that have been given much press (literally and figuratively).
These other scripts, while perhaps not as sanctioned, are also soulful road maps, drawing us to our truest, divinely-created selves, and to our divine Creator.
Here’s an example of one of those other kinds of writings. It’s Mary Oliver’s piece called Praying. This could also be called “Everything You Ever Needed to Know About Talking to God.’
It doesn’t have to be the blue iris, it could be weeds in a vacant lot, or a few small stones; just pay attention, [there’s our theme!] then patch a few words together and don’t try to make them elaborate, this isn’t a contest, but the doorway into thanks, and a silence in which another voice may speak.
How’s that for sacred? And accessible, and universal.
Our monthly themes are designed in part to expose us to a plethora of inspired writing. You may recall that our theme last month was Embodying Resilience.
In my exposures to that theme I came upon what I regard as another example of sacred text. This one, entitled How Do I Keep Going? A Manifesto of Sorts was authored by Lisa Olivera.
We’re going to dive into pieces of it, and as we do, note how intertwined the concepts of resilience and attentiveness are.
February’s resilience flowing into March’s Paying Attention.
Before we jump into the manifesto, let’s hear the author’s impetus for this project.
Ms. Olivera says… I have asked myself this question How Do I Keep Going? over and over throughout my life. At times, it came close to being a life-or-death question; other times, it’s been a simple question to help me get through a mundane task.
It’s the same question regardless of circumstance: How do I keep going when life is brutal, or glorious, repetitive or piercing? How do I keep showing up to be in and of the world, even when doing so requires me to bring a more alive version of myself, which can feel next to impossible?
She reports that she started writing her manifesto when she was quite depressed, and remembers imagining it as a life raft she was tossing to herself when she felt like she was moving farther and farther away from okay-ness.
While many of us may not be clinically depressed, it’s safe to say that most of us have deep concerns these days that affect our sense of well-being.
Maybe what emerged from her dark night of the soul will inform, or remind, us.
As we begin, I want to invite you to do something. When you hear each of her ‘how to keep going’ guideposts, instead of just passively listening along, apply the concept to yourself.
How do you see yourself in her offerings? What aspects of her ideas pull on you/ challenge you/ flatter you because you’ve so got that one down already?
In other words, insert yourself as we go along. That’s where the action is…on the playing field vs. on the sidelines simply spectating.
Here’s the first How do I keep going?
Stop trying to get somewhere else. There is nowhere else to get to. There is no escaping this; not for now, at least. While this truth might at times be difficult, it is impossible to be anywhere other than where you are. Instead of spending your energy looking for an escape hatch that doesn’t exist, focus more on coming to understand what is needed to flourish (or at least exist with more comfort) where you are.
When I read this and considered what this conjures up for me, our fledgling Religious Exploration program came to mind.
Instead of just planning and doing what’s needed for next steps, I feel myself leaning in so far that at times my balance feels a little off.
Instead of solidly moving forward, because we’re here and I want us to be there, I’ve noticed that it’s costing me a little peace, can make me slightly edgy. And being in that sometimes mildly exhausting space doesn’t help me to keep going.
There’s a fine line between aspiring for something different or more and willingness to work to move in that direction, and it costing you some part of your equilibrium because you’re not yet there.
How do I keep going?
Do as Mister Rogers says and look for the helpers (I would call them ‘rays of sunshine’). It’s the kind cashier at the grocery store who looks you in the eye, and genuinely asks “How are you?” It might be your therapist, a dear friend, the garbage truck driver who, without fail, smiles as he honks and waves. Notice the ones who put care into how they move, and then ask yourself, “How much mindful care do I put into how I move? Where in my day, like that cashier, might I create a single ripple of positivity beyond what is required to not be a jerk?”
What (or who) came to mind for me here was Todd the pest control guy. Every quarter Todd comes to the house with his can ‘o chemicals and his squirty wand to keep the bugs at bay in the bungalow.
The job Todd does every day probably wouldn’t make the top 100 in stimulating, and he isn’t someone I’d describe as a GQ type.
But I know that there is sunshine in this man’s soul, because it comes out in his smile, in his eyes, in his warm words and eagerness to connect. I would venture to say that Todd is more content than most of the people I know.
Who are those people in your world, and what can they teach you through their way of moving in the world?
You might guess that smiles and warmth is THE prescribed manifesto vibe. Not necessarily.
Here’s another one, landing on the other end of the how to keep-going spectrum.
How do I keep going?
Instead of always trying to rise above your anger, let it remind you of what you want for yourself, and everyone else. Let it point you in the direction of what you require, what your bottom lines are.
There’s probably as much sacrifice required in this one as any, because when you experience anger, there can be divisive, destructive energy that doesn’t help you to keep going, unless you’re intent on going, say, to jail or divorce court.
It can be that way and often is. But if you’re committed to authenticity, your anger doesn’t have to be allowed to gallop into pastures of division, and nor do you have to squelch and contain it.
To keep going, to keep balance, there’s a sweet spot between aversion and subversion, and in that spot is a version of yourself that reflects where your rubber hits the road.
Olivera encourages to allow the rising of our anger to remind us of what makes us tick (but not like a time bomb). From it we can learn where our passions lie.
How do I keep going?
This next guidepost speaks to the reason this manifesto is front and center today.
I know that many of us struggle with what’s occurring in the U.S. and in the world.
I know it can be a soul-stunning experience (and here I mean like bombs of one kind or another going off nearly daily).
Sometimes we share a sign of peace at the beginning of a service, and some weeks ago one of you said to me, “I don’t feel like I have any peace to share.”
We talk about grace and peace, sometimes without a great deal of specificity.
We sing as our parting song every week… Go now in peace. May the love of God surround you, everywhere you go.
The love of God does surround us everywhere we go, but sometimes it would help to have more fuel to be more energized in the going, to keep going.
This manifesto is a prescription for the cultivation and maintenance of the peace that fuels us.
This next guidepost addresses the angst, the heaviness that has visited, and perhaps dwells within some of us to an extent, during these challenging times.
How Do I Keep Going?
Trust that things won’t fall completely apart if you stop taking it all so seriously. It’s OK to loosen your grip of grief even though the stakes may seem – and often are – high.
Remember that everything will change, more times and in more ways than can be imagined. Try not to get so accustomed to thinking you already know how things will go that you rob yourself of the very peace you wish for. Try not to be so afraid of the now or the future.
Of all our author’s pearls, this is the one I am called to return to most often. Perhaps that resonates with some of you as well. Things to ponder.
And so, those are some of the highlights from the manifesto.
You know how a fireworks display is often the shooting or one or two fireworks at a time, but then at the end it’s a cluster crescendo? That’s what this last one will be, as I pulled out singular gems from this sacred script.
I invite you, if you’re comfortable, to close your eyes and absorb each of them for the wisdom they hold.
How do I keep going?
-In your conversations with trusted others, tell the truth.
-Look people in the eye and momentarily hold your gaze so you both feel seen. -Take photos of what catches your attention, sit with why it speaks to you, and let this inform you about what you hold dear. -Make small talk that turns into meaningful talk with, say, the man at the bakery. -Give grace to drivers who are in a hurry. You have no idea what’s on their mind.
-Don’t be shy about physically touching other people as a means of connection.
– Slow down enough to think about the farmer who grew the onion you chopped, the kneading someone did to the dough that became the baguette on your table.
– Pay attention to what you miss when you believe faster is better.
– See beyond yourself to appreciate the pains and joys of other people.
These guideposts might sound more self-helpy than fodder for a religious gathering such as ours. A Lenten gathering, no less.
Ironically, another of our author’s suggestions was to read less self-help books!
While it might seem super secular at first sight, what she has offered has everything to do with our spiritual path.
And more specifically, this fits beautifully into the meaning of Lent.
If, that is, you value this period as a time for spiritual practices that deepen our resolve to lighten our burdensome load, so that we emerge more free to experience and express Love.
Is that not the whole point, also, of this manifesto?
Slow down. Prioritize. Connect. Forgive. And for God’s sake (literally…God’s and ours) pay attention.
Was this not the message of the Rabbi who went 40 days in the desert to deepen his understanding about these very things? Was it not the message of the Buddha and Mohammad and other enlightened souls?
When we absorb and embrace and truly integrate such messages, not only do we empower ourselves to keep going, but our lives become living, breathing manifestos.
And so, my friends, through your chosen ways of being, what will end up being the tenets of your life’s manifesto?
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