Saint Martins Day

Today is the Feast of St Martin, which was traditionally seen as the start of winter. It was a day for feasting, because from tomorrow a  forty  day period of  preparation for Christmas began. These forty days were a time of reflection and a simplification of activity and intake. Ironically this older way of marking this season is in marked contrast to the modern emphasis for this period, one of speeding up, of acquiring more, or consuming. I wonder which is the wiser way, a way that is closer to the rhythm of nature?

Nature has its periods of growth and its periods of rest. After the colours of autumn with its clear, brisk days, the quiet of winter begins to sneak up on us. All seems still and peaceful, but it is a necessary part of growth and underneath much is going on. In this, nature becomes for us a symbol and a model in its beckoning our inner life to rest, reflect and simplify. The Cistercian monk Thomas Merton reminded us of the value of “winter, when the plant says nothing.” There is a time for us also to slow down, to say little, to wait and watch.

Our task is to find a balance, to find a middle way, to learn not to overextend ourselves with extra activities and preoccupations, but to simplify our lives more and more. The key to finding a happy balance in modern life is simplicity.

Sogyal Rimpoche, Glimpse after Glimpse

A new way of looking at the week

Looking aroundEveryone wants to use happiness as a fix for problems, yet happiness is its own, very big thing, and it is selling happiness short to make it a fix for problems. To be happy is to experience life not as a series of struggles but as a gift, one that has no known limit. When you get the hang of being more interested in life than in agreeing with your thoughts, then you will get the life you get. And you will be able to have as much happiness as you want with almost no effort whatsoever. When you stop believing your thoughts, you look around just for you, just because it is interesting to look around. Some people call that enlightenment. But you won’t call it that. You’ll be too interested in the new view.

John Tarrant, The Paradox of Happiness

Noticing the ordinary

or·di·nar·y/ˈôrdnˌerē/ Adjective: With no special or distinctive features; normal.

The Catholic liturgical tradition has long divided time in two:  There are two kinds of days in life and two periods of the year. The days were either feast days or ferial days. The year was divided into “ordinary” time and …well, “extra-ordinary” time, I guess. This second segment of the year, come to think about it, I never heard anyone name at all. It was a number of times: Advent, Lent,  the Christmas, Easter and Pentecost seasons. This kind of information may be boring stuff but it’s important stuff, too. Ordinary time, you see, was the longest period of all. It was the time when life went its long, dull way, predictable to the ultimate. Monday, we did the laundry; Tuesday, we did chapel, altar breads, and house-cleaning; Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and Saturday we did it all again. More of the same. Same old, same old. Week after week, month after month, year after year.

 Every once in a while, of course, life was punctuated by a feast day with its special meals and polyphonic liturgies but, in the end, the normal, the daily predominated. As it does for all of us yet. The commute, the paperwork, the housework, the school run, eat up day after day with mind-numbing regularity. And yet, it is in “ordinary” time that the really important things happen: our children grow up, our marriages and relationships  grow older, our sense of life changes, our vision expands, our soul ripens. No doubt about it, [my father’s] prayer card was right: To lose the glory of ordinary time is to suffer the loss of the greater part of life.

Joan Chittister, Ordinary Time

 

Sunday Quote: Trust in moments of darkness

 

 

No seed ever sees the flower

Zen Saying

Simplification of outward life

Simplification of outward life is not enough. It is merely the outside. But I am starting with the outside. I am looking at the outside of a shell, the outside of my life — the shell. The complete answer is not to be found on the outside, in an outward mode of living. This is only a technique, a road to grace. The final answer, I know, is always inside. But the outside can give a clue, can help one to find the inside answer.

Anne Morrow Lindbergh, American writer and aviator, Gift from the Sea

Passing through

We often are tempted to  identify strongly with the mini movies or stories that are continually running in our heads. However, like the changing weathers of these last few weeks, many come and simply pass away.

We usually take ourselves to be the sum of these thoughts, ideas, emotions and body sensations, but there is nothing solid to them. How can we claim to be our thoughts or opinions or emotions or body when they never stay the same?

Jack Kornfield