When the lock-down measures for the Coronavirus hit, I was afraid and uncertain. Everyone was. How bad was this going to be? But as the days and weeks slipped by, something didn’t add up. We began to notice. Our brains shifted out of emergency mode, to interpretation mode. This inquiry for truth – and the dilemma of what to do with that truth – always begins with language. Language clarifies and illuminates. Without clarity, the fear of the unknown is crushing. Start with the soul words. Look with your eyes. Pull the thread of self-inquiry until the landscape is revealed before you. This is the platform of conscientious thought. This is how we live on purpose.
This practice of sharpening is essentially our search for truth: a truth that will withstand brutal cross-examination. The more self-examination we can bear, the sturdier our own bearing.
It was a rainy Friday afternoon in January, skating with my family at the local roller rink. When I came to the posters of roller derby, I caught my breath. Could I?
As I hold this light of practicing connection, it’s terrible. I feel the familiar drag of hiding, but also see the spark of something long ago familiar, like a conscience, on the other side.
I was trapped. Trapped by gratitude.
“Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near.” Philippians 4:5 In the early morning hours, I laid in bed, tears streaming into my ears. I was listening again to his wails through the intercom on my nightstand. I tried to muster the energy to rise for the baby again, after waking countless …