Spiritual Barometer

Wouldn’t it be great to have a "spiritual barometer" — something that would let you know the condition of your religious health on any given day?

I think we all have such built-in devices, it’s just a matter of taking the time to figure out exactly what they are.

So far, I have discovered at least three of my spiritual barometers: architecture, my wife, and traffic.

• Architecture — When my spirit is a bit low, awful
  architecture infuriates me. But when my spirits are higher, I
  will see the very same goofy looking edifice and laugh out
  loud.
• My wife — Sometimes I find Jane’s foibles
  (like her inability to return library books on time) endearing.
  However, there are occasions where late-fee accruals
  exasperate me.
• Traffic — There are days when
  traffic is unbearably annoying to me and other days when I
  am at peace with it.

In the preceding examples, the variable that changes is my mood — not the building, my beloved, or the blockage of cars. In other words, the world is the same, my spiritual barometer reading is altered.

When I keep track of the readings on my spiritual barometers it allows me to make adjustments in the way I react to the world around me. When I find myself annoyed by a set of circumstances that wouldn’t bother me on a different day, I know I must take great care to be kind to both myself and others.

How about you? What are your spiritual barometers? What can you monitor that will inform you as to the state of your soul?

The antics of your pets or relatives? The cost of things? The sounds around you? When you can't seem to remember things? When you find yourself asking God for something? When you find yourself leaving more generous tips? The ego of people? The toilet seat being left up or down?

See if you can't find a few. (If you want to share them, post them here.)

Finally, let me advise that we shouldn't try to use our spiritual barometers as indicators that we need to change anything about our self or our perception of the world. Instead, let us use them to note, with amused detachment, whatever state of awareness we are currently experiencing

Our spiritual barometers can be the greatest of tools to help us find the willingness to be mindful our feelings and explore greater consciousness.

OY Thinking.

OY Thinking = putting others before yourself.
O = Others. Y = You.

OY Thinking is the mindset where the desires of others are given priority above your own needs.

Are you guilty of OY Thinking?

I know that I often am.

(OY Thinking is endemic amongst “nice” people.)

It often feels easier to be a caretaker for others than to take a good, hard look at ourselves, acknowledge what it is that we want, and then do it.
Also, being “selfless” looks good.

But, to be healthy, functioning adults, we need to put ourselves first. If not we are willingly — and often unwittingly — committing violence against ourselves. Putting others first is both exhausting and unfair.

The recently deceased sage Thomas Merton wrote:

To allow oneself to be carried away by a multitude of conflicting concerns, to surrender oneself to too many demands, to commit oneself to too many projects, to want to help everyone in everything is to succumb to violence. More than that, it is cooperation in violence. It destroys your own inner capacity for peace. It destroys the fruitfulness of your own work, because it kills the root of inner wisdom, which makes the work beautiful.

I’m not talking about being selfish — insisting on your own way to the point of doing things to others that you wouldn’t want done to you. What I’m talking about is putting our priorities in the right order.

There is a very famous aphorism attributed to Rabbi Hillel (a contemporary of Jesus) which says:

If I am not for myself, then who will be for me? And if I am only for myself, what am I? And, if not now, when?

In the upcoming week, accept the challenge to put a stop to your OY Thinking. Instead, try valuing yourself as much as — or more — than you would value any other person.

With love for you (and me),

Rabbi Brian

Life is hard.

My friend Julie says something that I think we all need to take
to heart:

Life, it isn't for the weak.

I forget from time to time just how hard it is to be among the living. Daily, in a myriad of ways, we and all people living have to deal with fear and loss.

Let's be kind to ourselves in the upcoming days, remembering
that life is hard.

With love,

Rabbi Brian

Cruise Control

There are moments in all our lives when our proverbial “cruise control” gets turned off.

You know the feeling . . . you were just going through the motions of life without thinking about them and then “BAM!” a perspective shift happens — instant awareness.

Sometimes it’s triggered by unexpected news (like a death) or when something spectacular (like a rainbow) suddenly “wakes” us. But sometimes there’s no trigger, it’s just seemingly random.

I’ve been having a lot of these arbitrary jolts of consciousness recently — I find that I’ve suddenly “come to” in the middle of a dinner, a conversation, a phone-call, exercising, or driving.

It’s an odd feeling to move from sleepwalking to consciousness.

Every time I experience it, I almost always have the same thoughts:

1. “What caused this shift?”
2. “Where was I when I wasn’t present?”
3. “How long will this last?”
4. “What am I supposed to be doing?”
5. “I’m awed, glad, and a bit weirded out that I’m here.”

It’s also odd to realize that I’m not always present in my own life — that I spend a lot of time on “cruise control.” But it’s true, isn’t it? We all do it. Being “spaced-out” or “floating” is much easier than being present, here, now.

Years ago, I remember thinking that if most people were offered the opportunity to fly on their own volition, they would be glad for the chance. But what if it proved to be as difficult and time consuming as it was for us to learn to walk or read? I wonder how many of us would persevere?

Learning to stay present to life is just as challenging as learning anything new. It’s a really hard muscle to train.

Coming to . . . being awake . . . isn’t that really what the goal of any religious practice should be? Striving to be conscious of our lives as they unfold before us.

Jung once wrote something to the effect that God delighted in creation being conscious.

And while I’m not perfect at it, I like it too.


With love,

Rabbi Brian