December 2, 2014 – Practice and devotion

Listen to this post:

I am part of a coaching group.  We are a remarkable group of women who are bringing our purposeful work into the world, with the support of each other and our gifted teacher and mentor, Lissa Boles.  One of my sister-coachees, Lyn offered to me a self-study experience of a program she created called Nine Days to Peace.  Doesn’t that sound wonderful? Nine days and I have peace?  I have never easily created structure for myself and for a while I have had been living with this desire to re-commit to a daily spiritual practice, so I said a big “yes” to her offer.

I started my nine days on November 22, the new moon.  Farmers have been planting seeds under the new moon for eons. The energies of the dark night are good for beginnings.  We all start in the dark of our mother’s bodies.  Newness emerges from the darkness.  On the first day I spent a few hours puttering in my “pink room,” a second sleeping room in our house, where I sleep often.  There’s a bay window and my grandmother’s old sewing machine on the side of the bed where I set up an extended altar space with meaningful objects from my mothers, grandmothers, teachers, dear friends, Paris – and my Joseph – so they all would accompany me each day as I practiced.  I added candles and hung “Full Circle” – a painting with a lot of my journey in it – above everything.

Then I faithfully started the nine-days, lighting candles, creating my intentions, writing in my journal, having sweet time connected to myself, my deepest longings – and the God of my heart.  I played sacred music, I listened the recordings of Lyn’s guidance she provided me. Even as I write this, I slip into the soft, lovely feeling of the space I created.  For several mornings I continued. It was just what I was hungering for.

And then, Thanksgiving happened – we hosted 14 for dinner.  I got pulled right out of my morning rhythm by all the to-do’s.  I managed to circle back in the evening to light a quick candle and read my intentions before bed – absolutely exhausted from all the do-ing.  The day after, I stayed in bed until 10:45. I can’t remember the last time I’d been in bed that late!  I’d slept and rested through the time I’d sit and be focused on my practice.  And, though I didn’t do much on Friday, I didn’t circle back – until the end of the day again to quickly read my intentions before bed.  The spell had been broken – I’d drifted away from my practice after six days.  I had to drag myself back to it on Saturday morning to finish the last two days. I did finish the nine days, at the very least reading my intentions to myself every day. But at the end I was left feeling like I’d not done it “right.”

I started the process with a bright, shiny optimism about what was to come of the nine days.  I know this about me – and it’s a sweet part of me.  But there is a naiveté to it.  I forget about the long haul.  The long haul is where it all happens.  Mastery comes out of time with butt in the chair.  This is still a muscle I work – I maybe always will.  I have no problem getting wholly enthused about a new exercise class or avoiding sweets for a while, or a renewed plan to paint every single day.  And then life happens. I get off track and things get loosey-goosey.  And…I remember I’m a feminine being, and we feminine beings are most naturally oriented by what happens outside of us.  This is how it’s meant to be.  Our babies need us to care for them in the moment they need it, not when we are ready to come out of ourselves.  But even after the babies are grown, it’s work, real work to follow our inner selves consistently.

I am a big believer that whatever is revealed is perfectly ordered.  My prevailing intention about myself and my process is to refrain from making anything about me “wrong.”  Of course I got off track because of Thanksgiving! Of course it was hard to come back when I was exhausted!  The fruit of the nine days is this: a deeper level of acceptance of this aspect of my nature.  Accepting that this is how I am gives me a new way to engage with staying on track.  There is a part of me that is quite idealistic; it so wants for my dreams to unfold smoothly and effortlessly. When I lose focus, that part makes stuff up about how I’ll never be, never have… whatever my intention is.

I see this dyamic in myself and others in our painting journeys.  One not-insignificant aspect of joining one of my weekly groups is the structure of – at least once a week – actually sitting down to paint.  There’s no laundry to fold, no email to respond to, it’s time to paint. Otherwise (and I know this intimately) it can be so hard brush off the distractions.  Painting is a spiritual practice to me.  It’s a devotion.  I just looked up the word devotion. There are several meanings. Two are “deep love and commitment” and “great dedication and loyalty.”  These things don’t mean anything if it’s easy all the time.  Devotions are inherently not-easy.  We bring ourselves to them in the face of what pulls us away.

Today, I sit with these guideposts:

• I am devoted – to my inner life, to painting and teaching, to write to you once a week, to be-ing love as much as I can be.
• I know that these devotions are bumped into by my life, inner and outer, pulling me away.
• And, I endeavor to gently accept myself as I watch the rhythms, the seasons of my practice.

My experience is this acceptance creates space for whatever it is that brings me back.  Which is completely mysterious to me – what does bring us back?  What comes to me in this moment is…  that which brings us back is Grace.

Wishing you the space for Grace to seep in.

Love,

Cara