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By Dr. Bruce T. Marshall
October 24, 2010
This morning I would like to offer what we might think of as a
“spiritual toolbox,” a set of strategies to reach for in times when
we need something to get through. Maybe a little adjustment in our
attitude, maybe a change in perspective, maybe a nail here, a stitch
there to keep things serviceable.
You know how it is. Sometimes you find yourself thrown off balance,
losing track of who you are and what you want to be and where you
want to be going. Maybe you say or do things that later you think,
“That wasn’t really me.” Maybe you find yourself preoccupied, unable
to focus on what’s in front of you. Maybe you find it hard to sort
through the distractions to focus on what actually does have worth
and meaning.
There’s nothing in this toolbox that’s particularly fancy. You
probably draw upon several of the practices anyway, when and if you
remember. So maybe this will serve as a reminder to use what you
already have, rather than going out and buying something new. The
common denominator is that these tools—these practices—are useful.
They help me. Maybe they’ll also help you.
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The first such practice I have to offer: recognizing that It Just
Is. Simply that: It just is.
Sometimes bad things happen. These might be little bad things. The
tire goes flat. A window breaks. Your team loses a big game. The
computer crashes, and you can’t find what was there before. Or these
might be big things: an injury, an illness, the loss of a job, a
personal crisis, challenges faced by our children. Sometimes too we
look back on decisions we have made about important matters like
marriage, like career, like where to live, like what we are doing
with our lives, and we might find ourselves regretting those
choices.
Then we might think, “Why did this have to happen? Why did it turn
out this way? I don’t want to be dealing with this.” If only, I had
taken a different path. If only, I had made smarter choices. If
only, I had noticed that train coming ‘round the bend. If only, the
wind hadn’t blown and the rains hadn’t come.
But rains do come and winds do blow. And so after I do an
appropriate amount of railing against the fates and a significant
amount of questioning things I have done or haven’t, then I might
finally get to the point of recognizing: you know, it just is. I’m
going to have to deal with it. Whatever the “it” happens to be: a
flat tire, a job gone bad, an illness or an injury. It just is.
If I make it to that point, then something wonderful occurs. That
“something wonderful” is that my attention shifts to how I can
actually address this challenge. Instead of wasting my energy on “if
only’s,” I do what I can with what I’ve got. That, by the way, is
kind of a bonus practice, not on the list of seven, but useful
nonetheless. “Do what you can with what you’ve got.” It’s a bonus
that comes from realizing and accepting, “It just is.”
● ● ●
Practice number two. I’ll introduce this one by citing a
conversation I had this past week with another Unitarian
Universalist minister who is in her first year serving a
congregation. My role is to be her spiritual director, helping her
acclimate to this new reality of being a minister. She said
something that might be familiar to many of us. She said that when
she receives praise, she discounts it, doesn’t take it seriously.
But when there is criticism, it goes to the heart and lives with
her. That criticism, even if it’s minor and even if it’s wrong,
colors her day.
Feelings, emotions, thoughts—especially thoughts driven by
feelings—can hang on long after their useful lives are done.
Something happens between you and a co-worker and the feelings left
from that exchange linger. Or maybe there’s an issue in your work,
in your family, and even after it’s been worked through and a
decision made, it hangs on. Old hurts, old memories, old
injustices—they can remain inside for years, for our whole lives,
even for generations as feelings of hurt and injustice are passed
down from one to the next.
It is important to listen to criticisms. It’s important to be aware
of injustices. It’s important to be committed to ideas. It is
important to stand by our convictions of what is right and true. But
there comes a time when the useful life of any specific issue or
experience passes. Maybe we’ve learned what we can from that
criticism and need to move on. Maybe we’ve done what we can to
address this injustice. Maybe the issue we’ve felt so passionately
about has been discussed and fought through and decided. We still
might not agree, but it’s decided. It’s done: time to move on to
something else.
How to do that when something inside of you wants to continue
holding tight? Simply this: let it go. When a feeling or an idea or
a hurt outlives its usefulness, let it go.
Any of you who have had experience with meditation knows that as you
try to relax and become centered, thoughts and feelings crowd into
your mind. Sometimes important thoughts, valid feelings, but they
are distractions from the practice of being present, which is what
meditation is. So what do you do with those important thoughts and
valid feelings that distract you from being present? You let them
go. Don’t fight with them, don’t argue with them, don’t try to wish
them away because this just makes them stronger. Rather, let them
go. When they come back, let them go. And when they come back yet
again, let them go. Each time they reappear, their power diminishes.
After a while, they don’t come back.
The benefit of the first practice—accepting that it just is—is that
it enables us to deal with whatever the matter is at hand. The
benefit of this practice—let it go—is that it helps us become
present right here, right now. Those things that bother us or obsess
us long beyond their time: they keep us in the past. And so we
practice the discipline of letting go so they we might actually live
in this present moment in which we find ourselves.
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This next useful practice may be counter-intuitive to Americans
because we like to see ourselves as people of action. We encounter a
problem and want to fix it: now. But sometimes that doesn’t work.
Action doesn’t get us anywhere; we just spin our wheels. Then a
better strategy is to wait. Thus, a third useful spiritual practice:
wait.
Our college senior daughter was telling me about a problem on a
take-home physics exam that she couldn’t get. She worked on it for a
long time, and it still didn’t make sense. So she finally gave up in
frustration, went to bed, decided she would hand in the exam with
that one problem unaddressed.
The next morning, she got up, took a quick look at the stubborn
problem and, of course, you know what happened: she saw how to do
it. Right away. She could have stayed up all night and never gotten
it. But by standing back, waiting, the answer came to her.
I often reach a point when working on a project, writing a sermon,
approaching a decision when I don’t know what to do next. At such
times, it can be a useful strategy to wait. Put the problem on the
shelf. Do something else. Give the stars time to align. I have made
some bad decisions by taking action before it was time. I do better
when I pause and wait—not forever but awhile—to see if a way through
this problem becomes clearer.
You have probably heard the advice, “Don’t just do something, stand
there.” This piece of wisdom has been attributed to various sources
including the Buddha, Jesus, and the White Rabbit in Walt Disney’s
version of Alice in Wonderland. (Scholarly consensus is that the
White Rabbit is the most likely source.) But whoever said it first,
the point is valid. Sometimes the best course of action is to wait.
● ● ●
The fourth useful spiritual practice: Keep on truckin’
When Amy and I moved to this area and bought a house, my first big
project was to paint the exterior. The existing color was “Tired
Yellow.” I think that’s one of the colors you can have mixed at the
paint store because I see it around a lot. We decided to replace
“Tired Yellow” with something called “Bleaker Beige.” I like to
paint. When I paint I can see what I’ve done—there are immediate
visible results, unlike a lot of other things I do, such as
ministry. But even though I like to paint, there were mornings when
I had a hard time getting going. I did not want to do it.
This is a standard challenge of everyday life: getting going. Doing
things you don’t really want to do but that need to be done.
Sticking with an activity through the low points, when it’s not
generating much excitement or energy. There’s a lot a stake here. If
I hadn’t pushed myself through the times of low enthusiasm for my
painting, our house today would be a patchwork of Tired Yellow and
Bleaker Beige. The same goes with our projects, our work, the things
we are trying to do. Rarely does energy and enthusiasm sustain them
all the way through. That’s when we need to keep on truckin’. That
is, put one foot in front of the other.
The obvious benefit of this strategy is that it gets things done.
“Keep on truckin’” is a useful everyday practice because it yields
results. But it’s also a useful spiritual practice because in the
process of truckin’, we might receive a gift. The gift is that by
sticking with it, we find ourselves involved again, unexpectedly
attuned to this project we’re working on. I experienced that when I
was painting the house, as I have experienced it in many activities.
There are times when I am just forcing myself through—and then
without my realizing when or how this occurs, I find myself engaged.
Right here, right now, fully present. “Being” as well as doing.
● ● ●
The fifth useful spiritual practice: Create Space. To those who are
scientifically oriented, that might seem impossible. There’s only so
much space. We can’t manufacture more of it. But psychologically and
spiritually, creating space is very real, even a necessity.
I have noticed that when people come to me with a problem—be it a
personal crisis, a job challenge, a spiritual concern—that problem
becomes all-consuming. It’s always front and center, getting in the
way. You don’t see or feel or experience much of anything without it
getting obscured by this central concern.
At such times when something is too close, we need to create space
between ourselves and the issue that is claming our attention.
Because you can’t deal creatively with something when it’s right on
top of you. You need space to move around, space to breath, space to
provide protection, space in which you can relax.
How to create space? Take a step backwards, be attentive to other
parts of your life, change your focus, try thinking about something
else for awhile. Put it into perspective. Get away from it. Go for a
walk, go out for dinner. Volunteer for a worthy cause. Read a novel.
Take your attention elsewhere for awhile.
The benefit we receive from creating space: well, just imagine it.
If we are in a physical space that is too tight and then get free,
we relax, breathe, our attention widens beyond that tight spot in
which we have been stuck. The same thing occurs when we create
psychological or spiritual space. We relax, we breathe, we can
become who we are.
Creating space, then: another useful spiritual practice.
● ● ●
Practice number six is a mantra. That is, something to repeat
because it reminds us of what is true and helps us get free. This
mantra, It’s Not About You.
Early in Amy’s cancer treatment, her oncologist offered a helpful
insight. She said, “You think that everybody’s going to notice the
changes in you, your physical appearance, how your energy
diminishes.” She said, “You’re going to feel self-conscious because
it seems like everyone is watching you, thinking about you. But the
fact is, just about nobody will notice.”
Just about nobody will notice. That was kind of shocking. The
reason, she said, is not through any lack of kindness or concern.
The reason is that most of us spend most of our time thinking about
ourselves. We don’t notice things going on in other people—big
changes, like losing all one’s hair—because we’re not paying that
much attention. Annie Dillard put it this way. She said we spend
most of our time saying “Hello!” to ourselves.
This is a fact of human consciousness. I do not aim to criticize or
change it. Remember practice number one: accept that it just is. I
do find it useful to stay aware of this reality because it protects
me from taking things personally.
Maybe you’ve had this dream in which everybody is watching you,
criticizing you, laughing at you. It’s a common dream because it
sometimes feels that way. But really, nobody’s watching you very
much. They’re too busy watching themselves. It’s not about you.
This can be disconcerting to realize but also freeing, particularly
for those of us who tend toward self consciousness. We don’t have to
worry that much about what other people think because chances are,
they’re not thinking about us. So when it seems that some comment or
policy or joke is directed right at you, chances are, it’s not.
Honestly, it’s not about you.
● ● ●
We now reach the final of my seven useful practices. You might
wonder, why seven? Could there be five or eight or nine? Well yes,
of course. But “seven” has a nice ring to it. There are seven
Unitarian Universalist principles that we draw upon to articulate
who we are and what we stand for. According to the Book of Genesis,
the world was created in seven days. On the other hand, there are
seven deadly sins. Also seven dwarfs. Seven seems like a nice round
number. Fits neatly into a sermon too.
So there’s one more: It’s Already Here. Whatever we’re looking for,
chances are, it’s already here.
Call this the Wizard of Oz principle. Remember the story. When
Dorothy finds herself in the land of Oz, she meets a scarecrow who
wants a brain, a tin man who wants a heart, a lion who is cowardly.
Each feels that something essential to being is missing from his
makeup. But then along the way to find the wizard, the scarecrow
without a brain shows that he can think, the tin man without a heart
demonstrates his kindness, and the lion faces danger bravely, even
though he is afraid. What each seeks is already here.
Similarly, what we yearn for, what drives us, what brings us to rush
around hither and fro, what we dream of: it’s already here. Already
here, woven through the experiences of an ordinary day.
In the chill of the fall air.
In the bright blue skies of October and the grey
threatening clouds.
In the taste of chocolate: dark, rich, bitter/sweet.
In the soft light of dusk or dawn.
In a moment of knowing something you hadn’t known
before.
In tears of sorrow and tears that come when you laugh.
In the feeling that accompanies a memory of another
time, another place.
In moments of connection and understanding with another
person.
Of course, we need to have ambitions, go off on strenuous journeys,
seek accomplishments, and that’s all well and good. But just so we
don’t miss our lives while we’re looking for something else, it is a
useful spiritual practice to pause and realize from time to time:
oh, it’s already here.
● ● ●
Hence, my seven useful spiritual practices. To recap, these are
(1) It just is.
(2) Let it go.
(3) Wait.
(4) Keep on truckin’
(5) Create space.
(6) It’s not about you.
(7) It’s already here.
Think of these as tools to draw upon. As with other tools, each
doesn’t work well in every situation. Sometimes you need a
screwdriver with a flat blade; other times only a Phillips head will
do. But all have their utility in enhancing the spiritual dimension
of life.
Which is to say, these are tools to help us be present to our lives
and the gifts strewn throughout our days. As they help us create the
freedom to exist, to breathe, to become ourselves. As they guide us
toward realizing the life that is ours right here and right now
during our time of residence on this earth.
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