invocation to the chaos
divining form without permission
a risk a price a challenge
Answer!

Nothing has the power to control
the chaos becoming Nothing
connected and connecting across
wishes needs desires wind

A sandy cliff-backed beach
Surf pulling me out to sea
the big band warming up
and You ask me to dance

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Imagine it is now time for you to leave the CA. You get up and leave the auditorium, decend the stairs and find that there is a pile of your baggage sitting in the lobby. You wouldn’t think of leaving it there, would you? So go and put on the heavy coat, sling the bags over your shoulders, and take a suitcase in both hands.

As you walk out of the building and head home, you notice that things seem slightly different. Where you usually see bike racks, there are now shrubs. You realize parking meters, sign posts, light poles have all turned into tall trees. As you walk, the city disappears, you find yourself walking home, by yourself, through woods filled with late afternoon autumn light. A few leaves fall, you sense a deer could be around the next turn in the path, but you can’t entirely enjoy your walk because you have all the baggage to carry. How far can you walk before having to readjust things? Are you pulling a suitcase on wheels? Does it get caught on roots?

Around the next bend in the walk, instead of a deer, you see a very close friend of yours, sitting on a bench. Your friend — is it your grandparent, your significant other, an imaginary playmate, your confidant? — Your friend leaps off the bench and greets you with great warmth. You were expected. Your friend leads you into a comfortable cottage, straight out of a Fairy Tale, and brings some refreshments into the sunny room.

Your friend stands in the door and looks at you, still in that heavy coat, still with the bags over your shoulders, and laughs. “Take that coat off and let me take your bags!” your friend says.”My! These are heavy? What are you doing carrying all this anger, fear, and resentment around?”

You friend sits you down on a very comfortable sofa, puts a drink in your hand, and asks you to explain what is in the heaviest bag. Talk to your friend about the heaviest thing you are carrying around.

Time seems to have hardly passed, but you must continue on your way. You get up to leave, and take your heavy coat out of the closet. “You don’t need that,” your friend says. “It’s not cold outside, leave it here with me. In fact, leave it all here with me, you don’t need to carry this around. I can take care of it for you.”

You walk out of the cottage into the late afternoon light, and wave goodbye to your friend. When you walk down the path now, you feel light and free, you run and catch a falling leaf, And before you know it, you’re back in front of the CA.

Return inside, sit and relax again, knowing all those concerns, that heavy baggage which slows you down, doesn’t need you to carry it everywhere you go. Relax, breath deeply, and open your eyes when you are ready.

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Some time ago, more than a year but far less than a decade, i was searching for a spiritual discipline. As a rebellous sort, inclined to rebel even against my own desires, discipline is a great challenge. And as a spiritual rebel, i was hard put to identify my options. Raised a Presbyterian, i can hardly think of a spiritual tradition from my youth. Perhaps reading the Bible every day. This would be a discipline of study, which is what i do with the rest of my life at this point, and carried out alone would lead only to more sarcastic margin notes in my study text.

I’d decided that now was not the time to become a member of the Society of Friends as i knew i was not a a point where i could immerse myself in the community which is an important aspect of the Friends’ testimony as i understand it. Joining a Wiccan coven might have appealed to me, but i’d be hard pressed to find a teacher i respected close to home. My minister recommended a friend to act as a Spiritual Guide. AA is a Quaker turned Episcopal, who responded to my description of the appeal of Wicca by nurturing my love of trees with the book [right, gotta find the title]. As my spouse mused, though, i’m not an easy person to guide, and i’m not sure what was going on with my lunches with AA. Nevertheless, upon hearing the early stages of this endeavor, she encouraged me to go forward.

It was the challenge of a friend of mine who was immersed in moo-society at the time, that initiated this project. What would i build in the virtual space of the moo? Immediately, the gardens i plan during the half hour walks to work or the eight hour drives to be with my spouse came to mind. The virtual gardens i already appreciated for their lack of weeds and resistance to drought. When i needed a high hillside with southern exposure, there it was. When i needed beachfront, there were no zoning restriction and no developers inflicting their environmentally insensitve lawns nearby. Which gardens would i use were i to build a public space? How would they be structured? I think the entire design came as i soaked in the tub, a central formal garden with new gardens at each of the compass points…. And the liberation from Cartesian geometry did my rebel soul good.

Somehow, very quickly, the gardens took on a spiritual meaning that has not let me go. I made a first attempt at cyber representation initially, and i sketched some ground plans (feeling like i ought to know what herbs grew where, yet believeing that that may not be the point at all), but slowly the work of tending the garden seemed to be less in inventing and more in experiencing That Which Is through the metaphors. A Buddhist friend plus an exhibit at the Philadelphia Museum of Art plus a beautiful web site gave me the startling insight that what I was doing was not entirely new, but was much like the Tibetian Buddhist use of the mandala. Presently, I am beginning to explore how the rosary might be a similar technique for dicipline and meditation after a discussion with a Catholic friend (who i must say has taken to making her own mandala or garden like a fish to water) pointed out that the mysteries were in some ways similar.

Intriguing Rosary sites gleaned from Alta Vista

• Scriptural Rosary

• How to Pray the Rosary
• The Mary’s Garden Project

Late in 1995 i felt stirred to begin thinking about how i could share what i was doing. I had attempted to discuss it with people, but found it difficult to separate out the rich detail of the creative experience from the power of the spiritual experience. A workshop of some sort would be the only way i could think to share it, yet i hardly felt i had the authority or experience from which to lead. Indeed, in my joyfully wondering off to do my own thing i had found myself in a marvelous land with no language to communicate the experience with others "back home." How could i lead people off into their own lands?

Nevertheless, my minister provided the opportunity, and i spent the first three Thursdays sharing my experience with the circle of friends i worship and explore. First i shared the Guided Meditation , essentially baring my soul more than i could imagine. I ended that meeting and all the other meetings with my Daily Prayer. The next week we discussed some ideas for your own. And the last week we shared our new homes, and i felt incredibly blessed with the new visions everyone else offered up.

TO COME: "processing" of the workshop experience and the insights i gained. [2007-11-21: this is unlikely to be fleshed out from the first workshop]

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Years later I remembered a lesson taught in children’s choir. Our leader told us that the Lord’s Prayer was a model upon which all prayers could be based, and she discussed praise and confession and intercession. I thought over the prayer and realized that the intent was still meaningful to me, but that the words had grown heavy as they bore connotations against which I struggled.

The first word I wanted to revise in the Lord’s Prayer was was “Lord.” The title was revolutionary when servants and laborers and slaves applied it to Jesus Christ. As power structures became “Christianized,” I feel that the revolutionary use was turned upside down as it was used to enforce oppression. In our current democratic society, it is meaningless at best. Jesus Christ is my Teacher, and it is He who taught me to pray this way. Thus, I refer to this prayer as how I have learned, as opposed to how I recite. I don’t really think of this as “An Alternative Lord’s Prayer.” For me, it is the essence of the lesson Jesus taught as recorded in Matthew 6.

“Our Father” became “My Mother” as I usually say this prayer alone, and the challenge to patriarchy has healed some wounds. Since I have written it, I have become just as comfortable with Father, or MotherFather God (as is a friend’s preferred address).

I believe in an immanent God, not an eminent God “who art in heaven.” As a physicist I have given thought to a heaven which exists out of time — which is eternal — and what I can conclude just from that premise. I find my conclusions comforting, and find that Eternal Love makes more sense to me than eternal will.

The request for daily Bread will always be meaningful to me as I continue to learn to live in faith, trusting that God will provide for all my needs. The experience I have had of Grace has helped me to understand what people are talking about when they speak of “forgive us our debts,” but those words will forever be tainted with the image of a stern, unforgiving God for whom we will never be good enough. Instead of living forgiveness, I intend to live Grace.

The language of the Society of Friends (Quakers) leads me to speak of Clarity and Right Action instead of focusing on the temptations I wish to avoid. It is not clear to me that a life free of temptations is one filled with Grace. The trust I place in God in helping me to discern my life’s work, for instance, goes beyond simply trusting to be lead from careers that will fill me with vanity or cause harm to the earth and society. I trust that right action will bring me to employment in which I an fed spiritually and materially and in which I can also do the work I am called to do. In discerning that calling is my search for clarity.

I have shared this prayer with my worship community several times. Each time it speaks to some people very deeply. Others feel freed to listen to the original version in a new way, for what speaks to them. I suspect most people learn the prayer as soon as they’re able to recite, as they hear it repeated in church every week. That’s learning the words though. I think that Jesus was teaching fundamental theology to the disciples in his simple prayer, and I encourage everyone to make their own study to see what they have learned to pray.

This essay and the prayer were published in the March 1996 issue of Ailanthus: An Occasional Journal of the National Association of College and University Chaplains.

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The first premise is that visualization and metaphor are powerful methods of prayer/meditation. [ Since I began working on this I found that the process bears a striking similarity to the use of the mandala by Tibetan Buddhists.]

The second premise is that the discipline of repetition leads to a more rich experience of the meditation. To facilitate remembering details, correspondences between concepts — parallelism — can be developed.

If some one else wanted to develop similar meditative spaces, i would suggest exploring what aspects of the Divine they wished to contemplate and, separately, what spaces, what situations do they find comfortable to visualize. For me gardens were easy, but i think rooms in a family home might be powerful. I’d have people list sets as well — of 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7. The sets could be the four points of the compass, one’s five favorite colors, three types of movement, and so on.

I’d then suggest building correspondences, choosing a number to work around. I think i might want to challenge myself to build a trinity space or a penta-space. I’d encourage people not to feel compelled to use their entire set if it doesn’t work out (one might ought to stick with 4 compass points and only use four of the five favorite colors).

Then, i’d suggest building a parallel experience in each space.

Sets

For me it is tempting to insist on complete sets. My logical mind insists on symmetry and balance. This is not science, however. If, to you, touch, sight, and taste are your strongest senses, do not feel compelled to include hearing and smell if you only want to work around three spaces.

Sets of Threes

Sets of Four

Sets of Five

Ordering

While you are always free to visit a space in any order you wish, for the discipline of visiting the spaces a set pattern is useful.

In my gardens, there is a progression both through the cycle of the day and the cycle of the year. This familiar cycle has informed the cycle of the aspects of the Divine i experience. Grace (or love) is for me fundamental, from which my relationship begins. I end with wisdom, which is what i envision as the fullest fruit of my relationship with the divine. It does not seem necessary that there be a familiar cycle or progression to underlie the progression you develop between your spaces, yet thinking about familiar cycles may enhance whatever progression you develop.

Written for Sister Circle at the Christian Association, 11 Firstmonth 1996

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So now breath deep and center yourself. Find your self sitting on a comfortable garden bench with me. The sun is shining warmly on our faces, but it’s hard to tell what season it is, isn’t it? This could be a warm North Carolina winter’s day. We’re in the corner of a fairly formal garden. The herbs in the beds are still quite green, and there are many different shapes and sizes and shades of green, but I’m not going to tell you all about them. There is a bay myrtle shrub behind our bench, though, and I reach around you and pick a small branch off. I hand it to you, crushing the leaves, and you smell the bayberry scent used in Christmas candles for centuries. I bring your attention to the paths. The garden, you’ll note is quite square. Two concentric paths — this slate paved one at our feet, and the smaller gravel one around the sundial — are connected by eight gravel spokes. It’s to symbolize the wheel of the year. Now take my hand and let me lead you down the gravel path in front of us, to the sundial in the center of the garden. I think of this sundial as a place to leave small symbolic offerings. If you want, you can leave the bay branch there, giving it back to the garden. Now, I hope you can feel the sense of peace I find here. This isn’t a very dynamic garden for me. I center myself here, and rest in the warmth. When I’m sick I just like to sit on the bench and watch the small song birds splash and feed in the opposite corner.

So, see how of the eight paths four point to the garden corners, and four point to gates in the centers of the sides? Well, each gate is at a compass point, and you are now facing east towards a wooden wall that reminds you faintly of Japanese garden spaces. Follow me to the wooden door, and I’ll pull the simple rope handle and open it. It’s early morning in this garden. I walk out on a deck, over a pool filled with carp. There are bonsaied trees on one side of the pool, Japanese maples just in leaf, and azaleas blooming. A wooden bridge crosses over a creek, and in the opal, misty air of the morning you can smell the salt of the ocean and hear the crash of water. Standing on this bridge I can see the beach. I’ll tell you, if you were to let yourself melt into the water you would flow down this stream under this bridge, go through the staccato waterfalls, and then meet the chaos of the ocean waves. A little ways down the beach there’s a tidal pool with a lyrical water fountain. Were you here for one of Beverly’s prayer-by-movement sessions? If you had been, you’d know that the four movements she led us through are there in the flowing, staccato, chaotic, and lyrical movement of the water. Sometimes I walk on that beach with Christa, but every day I meet That Which Is here in the form of a young hooded woman. Ah, she’s coming out of the woods, now, with her cup. I greet her, and she hands me the cup. This is the cup of grace. I drink from it, and hand it back to her. I’m going to walk down the path into the wood a bit now, and leave you alone with her.

Are you ready? Let’s then leave by the gate we came in by, and follow the slate path to our left, to the south. Isn’t this a wonderful old split rail fence? It’s like the ones in the Appalachian Mountains. And roses and blackberries just tumble over it. There’s not really a gate here, just a gap in the fence into this wonderful orchard meadow. I can’t help but run down the slope, throw my hands up in the air and spin myself around. The peach trees are filled with sweet juicy fruit — they’re quite ripe — pick one if you’d like. I don’t run and dance and play here enough. Now, I have met That Which Is in the form of a young man here. He’s never said anything to me, but he has given me a gift of courage. This gift is in an image I found surprising. Over here is a column of light and fire. He motioned for me to reach in, and as I did I felt as if I was reaching into a reflecting pool. I find now, as I always do, my beating heart. You, too, can reach in. With every heart beat, courage pulses through my body. With every heart beat, I can face my grief, my frustrations, my fears, my anger. With every heart beat I am alive, and with the gift of life I can face anything. Let’s sit for a moment and feel our hearts beat.

Are you ready? Let’s then leave by the gate we came in by, and follow the slate path to our left, to the west. After spending several summers working in New Mexico I became very fond of adobe homes. So over this low adobe wall is a small court yard filled with chrysanthemums and beyond that a small adobe ranch house. We walk up the low porch and enter. Follow me through the hall… Here’s a shelf with a rough wooden chest. I keep gifts I receive during other guided meditations in here… And here we are… step down and you see this round wooden table. It’s very familiar, isn’t it! The room is open to the west and you can see the Rio Grande valley, the mountains to the west with the sun setting behind them. I often walk out into the field — barefoot — and feel the rich soil. I let myself feel the support the Divine provides us all here, in the strength of the earth. Stand here with me and feel the nourishment that is provided for us all.

Are you ready? Let’s then leave by the gate we came in by, and follow the slate path to our left, to the north. It’s another high wooden wall, and we pass through the door into a winter night. There’s a cabinet right here, with warm coats and cloaks inside. Once you put it on, you don’t notice the cold, just the incredibly bright stars. There’s a mountain in front of us, and in the starlight you can see how the path leads up past the wintering fruit trees growing along the terraces. It’s a comfortable walk, and we go up past the fruit trees to a patio surrounded by rhododendrons, and there are more comfortable garden benches here. I sit here and ask to meet with the Wisdom of the divine. Often I just feel very alone with myself — and my breath. So I concentrate on each breath, and feel how with each deep breath in I feel filled. I am perhaps not the most confident that Wisdom fills me, but i trust that in time, breathing in, breathing out, I will be filled with purpose. Breathing in, breathing out, I will be filled with understanding. Breathing in, breathing out, I will be filled with the words I need. Sit here with me and breath deeply for a while.

Are you ready? Let’s then leave by the gate we came in by. There’s one last garden, which, for me is the center of Being. If you walk through any of the gardens you will find a path that leads to it. So walk through your favorite gate, go past the spaces I described, and continue down the path. The way gets filled with fog and slowly becomes dark, and you realize you are walking up a grassy hill. You pass out of the fog into a moonlit night and see at the top of the hill a beautiful tree. Come sit under the tree with me. Here I feel awe at my connectedness with all things. As I sit under the tree I imagine the roots, reaching out to all of you, to my mother and father, and sister and brother. I imagine the roots reaching to my friends’ parents and friends, people they have told me about, and I feel the roots reach past to their families, to more people I can imagine.

So, let’s return to the CA. Walk back along your path, down the hill, and through the fog. Pass through the garden and through the gate into the herb garden. Sit back down and bring yourself back to the CA. When you’re ready, open your eyes.

Written for Sister Circle at the Christian Association, 4 Firstmonth 1996

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I turn and face South,
I am asking towards the Light,
I am asking that my day be made beautiful by the Light,
I am asking for the Courage to go forward through the dark,
I am asking towards the Light.

I turn and face West,
I am asking towards the Land,
I am asking that my day be supported by the Land,
I am asking for the Stability to go forward through the chaos,
I am asking towards the Land.

I turn and face North,
I am asking towards the Wind,
I am asking that my day be filled by the Wind,
I am asking for the Wisdom to go forward through the silence,
I am asking towards the Wind.

This form is derived from a prayer by Mary Austin, as printed in the book Earth Prayers From Around the World: 365 Prayers, Poems, and Invocations for Honoring the Earth, edited by Elizabeth Roberts and Elias Amidon, ISBN 0-06-250746-X.

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Give me this day my daily Bread,
And remind me of forgiveness, that I might remind others of
Your Grace.

Unveil my Path; help me to find Clarity and Right Action,
For thine is the Glory, the Grace, the Essence of Be-ing,
For Now and ever Always.

Amen

This prayer and an essay were published in the March 1996 issue of Ailanthus: An Occasional Journal of the National Association of College and University Chaplains.

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