Ways we evade wonder

The spiritual life requires wonder.  Well, life in general requires wonder.  Unfortunately, wonder too often evades us.  Maybe it's we who evade wonder.  I've written on this previously.  Here's an example of how we can walk right past some of the most remarkable beauty in the world and miss it entirely.

A man sat at a metro station in Washington DC and started to play the violin; it was a cold January morning. (See the video and related Washington Post article here).  He played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time, since it was rush hour, it was calculated that thousands of people went through the station, most of them on their way to work.

Three minutes went by and a middle aged man noticed there was musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried up to meet his schedule.

A minute later, the violinist received his first dollar tip: a woman threw the money in the till and without stopping continued to walk.

A few minutes later, someone leaned against the wall to listen to him, but the man looked at his watch and started to walk again. Clearly he was late for work.

The one who paid the most attention was a 3 year old boy. His mother tagged him along, hurried but the kid stopped to look at the violinist.

Finally the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. All the parents, without exception, forced them to move on.

In the 45 minutes the musician played, only 6 people stopped and stayed for a while. About 20 gave him money but continued to walk their normal pace. He collected $32. When he finished playing and silence took over, no one noticed it. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the top musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written,with a violin worth 3.5 million dollars.

Two days before his playing in the subway, Joshua Bell sold out at a theater in Boston and the seats average $100.

This is a real story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and priorities of people. The outlines were: in a commonplace environment at an inappropriate hour: Do we perceive beauty?

Do we stop to appreciate it? Do we recognize the talent in an unexpected context?

One of the possible conclusions from this experience could be: If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world playing the best music ever written, how many other things are we missing?

Enter the theater of your mind and take a seat

You're realizing that entering into the silence before God which is prayer awakens a riot in your brain.  Thoughts and images come from all over to distract you.  You might fight them off or drown out the noise by focusing on a text of Scripture or using words for your prayers.  And that's not a bad path, but it won't bring you ultimately into the presence of God where you must be absolutely still and enter the silence which is the language of God (see the Bible's story about the Mount of Transfiguration). So, today, enter the stillness of prayer and as you do, watch the thoughts your ego parades through your mind.  Get some distance from this riot of sight and sound.  Treat your thoughts like movie images cast upon the screen in the theater of your brain.  Sit down with your popcorn in a seat half way up.  Before you know it, you'll be sucked in, plastered to the screen itself, fully identified with what's taking place there.  When you are, peel yourself off the screen, and troop back to your seat and sit down again and watch your thoughts.  You'll get pulled out of your seat again and again and again.

Be kind to yourself.  This isn't easy work.  Again and again, take up your seat a good distance from the images on the screen of your mind and watch them until you get a little distance between the you who watches the thoughts and the self who thinks them.

You're on your way to "taking every thought captive to make it obey Christ," the Beloved, who is the source and goal of all prayer (2 Corinthians 10.5).

As you begin to pray, there's one who stands in the way

As I promised, I turn now toward the actual practice of the Jesus Prayer. But first, a warning: be wary of the way your thoughts will want to turn the Jesus Prayer into a mere method. When prayer becomes identified too closely to a method, it's no longer prayer. I've written about this earlier.

That said, there are three simple steps that can guide you as you enter your interior landscape---the kingdom within---and meet with God.

But notice what happens when you read the words, "three simple steps."  See how your thoughts are roused to action.  Even now they're planning ways to climb the ladder of prayer, achieving success, so you can congratulate yourself on becoming good at prayer.  On the other hand, it's possible that they're berating you instead, saying things like:  "That's stupid; there aren't three steps," or, "You've tried this kind of thing before and it never works."

You've come face to face with the ego, the false self---the "mind-made me," or, in the language of the Bible, the "flesh."

Before moving further in the practice of prayer, you must recognize the terribly familiar opponent who now stands ready to bar the way . . . your self.

Prayer: Entering the Interior Landscape

To live a life of prayer means live with as much awe and wonder and curiosity toward the vast inner landscape within you  as any scientist looks the earth or sky.  It means you live with as much respect and honor toward the beauty within you as any artist shows toward a desert landscape or jagged seacoast. Near Stromness, OrkenyJohn O'Donahue's a praying poet you ought to know.

The Irish poet and philosopher John O'Donohue was beloved for his book Anam Cara, Gaelic for "soul friend," and for his insistence on beauty as a human calling and a defining aspect of God. In one of his last interviews before his death in 2008, he articulated a Celtic imagination about how the material and the spiritual, the visible and the invisible worlds intertwine in human experience.

Here's a link to this remarkable interview on the audio program Speaking of Faith (which you also ought to get to know)

Stop dreaming, start living

I admit it.  I've got a thing for old things.  Old is certainly not always better, but I've not found much wisdom yet in the new.  So, when I'm looking for wisdom to help me in the spiritual life I mostly look to the past.  The past holds wisdom that's been tested by time. Here's a little tidbit that helps me awaken to real life from the dream of the illusions that want all my attention:

"Human life is a mostly a dream.  In our dreams we look without seeing, we listen without hearing, we taste and touch without tasting or touching, we speak without saying anything, we walk without moving.  The mind invents realities that are entirely imaginary."  Philo of Alexandria (50 BCE-20 CE)

It's awfully easy to look without seeing the person right in front of me.  To listen to the sound of traffic or the song of the bird in the tree outside my widow, but not really hear.  To taste and touch . . . and miss it all.  And of course, to utter something that has no life behind the words because I'm not really in my words.

I might as well be dreaming, because I'm not really living.

Changing that's not hard; but it means no longer allowing my thoughts to render the rest of me unconscious.