Showing posts with label Havanese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Havanese. Show all posts

Sunday, 28 January 2024

Person Centred Spirituality

I love watching Molly playing with other dogs. She loves to run and chase and wrestle. It doesn’t seem to matter the size of the dog either. When it snowed the other day she must have spent two hours just running and playing. She wore out about a dozen other dogs. They soon gave up, but she just carried on. How she loves to play. She has this ability to bring out the playfulness in other dogs too. I was talking to a woman and her Cavapoo the other day. She said her dog was not very sociable and doesn’t play. Well within a few moments Molly got her running around. She said her dog hadn’t done this for two years, it was only three years old. After a few minutes of joy she put her dog on its lead and walked away. I remember thinking to myself I am not sure that it is the dog that isn’t sociable and playful. It seems that some aspect of this lovely dog was not fully awake, a part that so desperately wants to play with others.

I love watching dogs play. They know intuitively when they are playing. They seem to instantly get in tune with each other. There are these momentary pauses in their wrestling and chasing and then they move into each other again. They are beautifully synchronised and understand one another. They quickly adjust to the size of one another too. They seem to understand each others needs and capacity. They seem beautifully centred on one another. It is a beautiful sight to behold how being in tune with themselves, they are in tune with one another, at least in play. It makes me think that this is a kind of empathy. It also got me thinking that maybe dogs at play is an example of the “Golden Rule of Compassion”; dogs at play seem to be a living example of “do unto the other dog as they would have done to yourself.”

Last Sunday Janine led a child blessing service. It was wonderful to watch her in action. To see how she had created her own service, that fulfilled the needs of the family. I enjoyed how she constructed the service. Afterwards we went for coffee and a chat. We chuckled to ourselves about the elements that she had combined together to create the service. Yes it was her own, but it was influenced by others, including myself. At cafĂ© nero we were joined by three people who had been at the morning services. One a regular Nick, who had helped with the music during Janine’s service, and the other two had been a couple of times before. They were already there and invited us to join them. Obviously, they wanted to talk about the Unitarian tradition. It was a fascinating conversation as we talked about so many different things. The subject of Universalism came up again. There was a lot of talk about the origins of the Unitarian tradition and our approach to religion. There were many attempts to label things, something I never like as it always seems reductionistic. There were questions about symbols. I talked, but mainly listened. I walked away with a broad grin on my face, went home, got changed and then headed off to the park with Molly. As I watched her play I thought what a beautiful metaphor she is for a free approach to religion and spirituality.

On Monday I was talking with a friend who is studying for a counselling degree. She had been reading Carl Rogers and his view on person centred counselling and the need for deep empathy. It was a lovely conversation and great to hear her so enthused by what she is learning. I love enthusiasm in anything and anyone. She asked me if I had thought about exploring “self actualisation” as a theme. I said I hadn’t, at least not directly. She then started asking questions about counselling, empathy and ministry, suggesting that the work of Carl Rogers seemed to correlate with Unitarian ministry. I think some of his ideas do point towards a person centred spirituality, which to me is the essence of the Unitarian approach to what religion is about. I then thanked her for being one of my Muses for the week, as she had just set my thinking in a direction for this service. How do you like it so far? She liked this.

On his journey towards developing person-centered therapy, Carl Rogers renounced traditional Christianity. Seeing it as imposing judgmental conditions of worth, by the way he viewed all religion this way. Rogers grew up in an extremely conservative Christian family. He had a particular problem with the foundational belief in the doctrine of “Original Sin”, a view I certainly share. The idea that at birth there is something fundamental wrong in humanity, in our nature. This is anti-ethical to Rogers concept of “Unconditional positive regard”

“Unconditional positive regard” is the attitude of complete acceptance and love, whether for yourself or for someone else. When you have unconditional positive regard for someone, nothing they can do could give you a reason to stop seeing them as inherently human and inherently lovable. It does not mean that you accept each and every action taken by the person, but that you accept who they are at a level much deeper than surface behaviour.

I see parallels here with “The Golden Rule of Compassion”, which can be found at the heart of every one of the great faith traditions. It is “Love your neighbour as yourself”, in one form or another. To me this suggest that if we see ourselves and one another as fallen in nature then we cannot love each other and if we can love each other then how can we love God. This seems to be in direct contradiction to the essence of the teachings of Jesus and thus Christianity and every other of the great faith traditions. This is one of the reason why I have never understood “Original Sin” as being in line with Jesus’ teaching. I do not accept that life and humanity is born fallen. I was thinking of this as Janine conducted the “Child blessing” service last Sunday, as she named the child, blessed her life and asked her family and friends to support her in her life. She blessed this beautiful blessing. I reject the concept of original sin, that said I do not deny that we all sin. In the sense that each and every single one of us fall short of our ideal of what we can be. That said despite falling short we should never lose sight that at the core of our being we are inherently lovable. We are formed from love and we are capable of love. Rogers believed that the purpose of psychology is to bring this inherent worth to life, I believe that it is the purpose of communities like ours to bring that alive too and to recognise it in others. In so doing we can begin to bring that love alive through our human being and in so doing we will truly love God with all our hearts, minds and souls.

As you can imagine this all got me thinking and relating to ministry, particularly in our tradition. In many ways the Unitarian approach is very much person centred spirituality. As a minister my role is to meet people where they are and encourage them to seek their own answer to life’s questions, particularly the spiritual nature of life. Surely this is person centred. I was thinking of this as I watched Molly playing with another dog, how in tune with each other they were and how by doing so both were gaining so much, as I watched the dance. Then it came to me what we are about is person centred spirituality, in community. My role is not to tell others what to think and believe, but encourage all of us to seek truth and meaning together and somehow in that dance, something remarkable happens. This does require unconditional positive regard for ourselves and others. We do need to believe that we and others are a blessing, or we will not trust one another, in the way that dogs do as they play.

Coming together with a sense of positive regard for ourselves and others is not a private affair, it is communal spirituality, something that appears to be increasingly lacking in this day and age. Many people report a need for spiritual sustenance but are put off by what is described as organised religion, of any kind, which they see it as detrimental to their own spirituality. I remember a friend once posting the following Meme: “Spiritual people inspire me; whereas religious people scare me.” This is because religion is seen as inhibiting and life constraining, which of course it can be.

Of course, Unitarians claim that we are a free and enquiry religion; that we are free to explore and develop our own personal spirituality in community with others. We, as individual members, of free religious communities, do not think and believe in the same way about many things, but we are bound together in mutual love. We are one faith, but we may not believe in exactly the same way, as that conversation in the coffee shop proved. That said there is love and respect and of course “Unconditional positive regard”. Well at least this is what we aim for. No one achieves this perfectly as none of us are perfectly self-actualised human beings, certainly not me. Maybe one day.

A person centred approach to spirituality and religion, with positive self regard for ourselves and others, recognising each others worth and dignity requires an openness to all that is, life, the universe, everything. It reveals truth and meaning in everything and everywhere and it reveals the divine in all aspects of life. It does not reject. It leads to a reverence for the miracle that is life itself and for one another.

This for me is the purpose of true religion, but it’s no easy task. Forrest Church said that in order to achieve it “We must embrace each day as the miracle it is and fashion our very lives into instruments of praise. This is religious work and it requires religious discipline. We perform that work together weekly in our Sunday liturgy. Once a week we pause and pinch ourselves. We can't take this life for granted. We must receive it as a precious gift, a pearl of great price.”

We need to recognise the oneness, the unity of everything. We are all part of a vast and yet mysterious living system. By recognising this we begin to participate consciously in this vast oneness. The mystics of every faith tradition have proclaimed this divine unity. It is called Nirvana in Buddhism, or the Brahman-Atman synthesis in Hinduism, when Jesus declares “I and the father are one” he is talking of divine oneness. We are all part of the one undivided whole. This is how we love God and our neighbour and ourselves. It is positive regard for everything and that that is at the core of everything.

Howard Thurman described this near perfectly in “Creative Encounter” when he said "It is my belief that in the Presence of God there is neither male nor female, white nor black, Gentile nor Jew, Protestant nor Catholic, Hindu, Buddhist, nor Muslim, but a human spirit stripped to the literal substance of itself before God."

This oneness, this sense of communion can be experienced by everyone, no one is excluded, it transcends all human created differences. What name we give it matters little, whether it be Universal Mind, Great Spirit, God, The Divine. Whether we name it or not we can certainly know it, I am sure we have all felt that oneness at one time or another.

I know from personal experience and from really listening to others that there is a deep human need to be at one with ourselves, reconciled with our neighbours and at home with the universe. It seems to me that our feelings of friendship and empathy are but a faint reminder of this essential oneness. We can all feel that oneness and it is through this oneness that we can truly know ourselves, our true natures. Can we achieve this alone? Does privatised spirituality allow this? How can we be at with all of life, if we cannot engage with one another spiritually?

To be truly religious is to let the sense of the eternal make a difference in our lives. It’s really all about being good neighbours. It’s about how we live with each other. As Thomas Jefferson said “It is in our lives not our words that our religion must be read”. You can be spiritual on your own, of course any one can, but we can only be truly religious requires us to come together. Coming together does not mean you lose who you are though. In many ways you may learn more about who you are, in interacting with others.

Last Tuesday morning , before I began writing this sermon I took Molly to the park once again. It was pouring with rain. There were only one or two other dogs out and about. Molly didn’t have anyone much to play with. She looked around, chased a few birds and squirrels. She was ok, but not like she had been in previous days. For she had to play alone. She was at ease though. She doesn’t suffer what so many humans suffer from, she doesn’t experience self-loathing, she has a healthy self-regard and as such goes out into the world with a sense of joy. That said Molly has known nothing but love in her life. No one has told her or treated like there was something wrong with her, in her nature. She sees most people in this light. If she has met you once she will greet you as an old friend, she likes to say hello to everyone. She has certainly enhanced my life and taught me so much about how to recognise my own worth and dignity and that of my brothers and sisters and attempt to build a community based on person centred spirituality.

To me this is how life should be and certainly what religion should be. It should be person centred, with love at its heart. With positive regard for ourselves, each other, life and God at the heart of it. Then we will truly live by the Golden Rule of Love and we will begin to bring to life the kin-dom of Love right here right now.

Please find below a video devotion based on the material in this "blogspot"



Monday, 3 October 2022

From Paralysing Worry to Creative Concern

I have a new joy in my life, Molly the beautiful Havanese puppy. She is a wonderful blessing and a great responsibility. She is also, I have noticed, something else to worry about. Like I don’t have enough. I found myself the other day very worried as she had eaten something, probably from the garden, that had made her sick. She then went very quiet for an hour or so and I got increasingly worried that there was something seriously wrong with her. I was so worried I couldn’t focus on anything else. I made the fatal error of googling. This is never a good idea as you can go down all sorts of avenues and end up convincing yourself of all kinds of trouble. I need not have worried as an hour later she was her usual self. No doubt it will happen again as this happens a lot with dogs, big and small.

I have experienced a few other worries over the last few weeks, around Molly, family and friends, all those who I love and care about. This week I have had much to hold in my heart and many people to be concerned about, it is my job afterall. It has also been the funeral of my cousin Cheryl and I have been back and forth to Yorkshire on a couple of occasions. There are other family troubles too. It has been a week of carrying so much, a heavy week and a deeply emotional one, hearbreaking at times. Cheryl’s funeral went as well as such things can, but word it was painful.

Now please do not get me wrong none of this worry had paralysed me. I have been very productive, despite what I have been carrying in my heart. I have also had the joy of Molly and one or two pleasures in my life. I have often stepped out into the world and sung. Unlike Mary Oliver singing is not something I worry about. Here is a bit of Mary on worry.

“I Worried” by Mary Oliver

I worried a lot.
Will the garden grow,
will the rivers flow in the right direction,
will the earth turn as it was taught,
and if not how shall I correct it?
Was I right, was I wrong, will I be forgiven,
can I do better?
Will I ever be able to sing,
even the sparrows can do it and I am,well, hopeless.
Is my eyesight fading or am I just imagining it,
am I going to get rheumatism, lockjaw, dementia?
Finally I saw that worrying had come to nothing.
And gave it up.
And took my old body
and went out into the morning,
and sang.

Mary Oliver. Swan – Poems and Prose, 2010 Beacon Press

We all have our worries in life. I am sure that some of you share Mary Oliver’s or perhaps some of your own. Many are deeply concerned about how they might cope through this winter. I know a lot of people are deeply worried, that financially, they will be unable to get by. Many have health worries whether physical, emotional, mental and or spiritual. Many worry that if they become ill, that they will be unable to get the help they need. Such worry can only impact negatively on people’s well-being.

There is no doubt to me that anxiety and depression is on the increase. Things have not returned to “normal” since Covid, if anything people seem to be struggling more now. It is also worth noting that we had these very same problems long before the Pandemic.

Worrying and getting caught up anxiety will not solve any of these problems, in fact it can only make them worse. That said just telling folk not to worry doesn’t help either. All it does is eat away at their well-being further. If we could just stop worrying, I am sure that we all would. Besides it is not feeling worried that is the real problem, it is becoming paralysed by it.

Being paralysed by worry does none of us any good, it can be deeply crippling and life reducing. Now of course we should not dismiss the challenge of life and live like some kind of delusional Pollyanna, but to live in and through worry destroys any joy in life. I remember a few years ago speaking with Rev Jill McCallister who was visiting from the US. She told me how she worried about her congregants; she worried how she could help them with their crippling anxiety about life. She described them as people of privilege and yet they were still ruled by worry. I have the same concerns about you folk as well as friends and family. I wonder how much of our energy is spent worrying about the people in our lives? Is this the best use of our limited resources? Surely it would better to put our energy into something more constructive.

I spend a lot of my time listening to people. They tell me of their worries and often end their time sharing with the classic line “Oh not to worry”, which of course is precisely what they are doing. That said I know that by sharing our worries they do somehow occupy less of our head space. I had a long conversation with my brother the other morning, as I was working on Cheryl’s eulogy, he was seeking help with his deep worries. They are not trivial. In sharing with me he gained some strength to continue doing what he can and not become paralysed by fear. While we were speaking Molly was sat on my lap, almost sensing I needed support. She stayed there all the time I wrote Cheryl’s eulogy. It was a bit of a challenge as for most of it her head was resting on one of my hands and thus I had to type one handed. She kept me going though.

Sometimes the most crippling aspect of worry is worrying about what might be, the worst possible scenario, as I did when exploring Google after Molly was sick.

The thing about worry is that, as Mark Twain observed, is that most of the things that we worry about never happen, Molly was fine afterall. And yet as we go through our day the worry machine is there chugging away in our minds stopping us experiencing this life we have been given. How many of us worry so much about being on time that we ruin every journey we take. This is one of mine by the way, especially on the Washway Road. How many of us worry about the weather when going on holiday. How many of us spend our days worrying about how we look, what people think of us, will the world come to an end, the political situation of the day. Our children and what their lives will be like and a myriad of other possible troubles. We are no different to Mary Oliver in our worries. The problem is not worry of course, it is what we do with our worries.

Now please don’t get me wrong I’m not suggesting any of these worries are real, of course they are. Surely though wouldn’t it be better dealing with the things that trouble us as best we can rather than wasting our days worrying about every little thing.

Why do we do this to ourselves? Why do we waste so much energy on worry? Why are we so afraid of things going wrong? Why do we believe that we can stop such things happening, that we can somehow control life? Well we can’t. Things will go wrong. And do you know what that aint always a bad thing.

Not that worry is wholly bad either, it has its place. We have the capacity to worry for good reason. As we anticipate that something bad could happen, the discomfort of worry spurs us to avoid that unfortunate something or at least mitigate against it. No doubt it is something that has evolved in humanity to guard against danger and to prepare for troubles ahead etc. Such as storing food for winter. The problem is though that we go too far with this and become paralysed by worry.

It would seem that the key is where we focus our attention. Worry and concern can help us to do so in positive ways. Likewise, it can paralyse us too, as our attention becomes purely focused on the worry and not what we can do about it. The problem is not so much the worry and concern, but what we focus our attention on and how it leads us to act. For what we focus our attention on really matters.

Throughout the Gospel accounts Jesus is often portrayed as being concerned with what the people he is with focus their attention on. When he said “consider the lilies” he was turning their attention on the lilies, to experience them. Likewise when he said “the kingdom on heaven is at hand,” he was pinpointing the exact location of where attention ought to be in order to enter the kingdom. And when he said “fear not, judge not, love one another.” He was suggesting that the focus ought to move away from images that generate fear and judgement towards ones centered on love. This it would appear is a solution to being dominated by worry. Worry was as troubling 2,000 years ago, just as much as it is today.

The key it would seem is to focus our attention in loving ways in the moment that we find ourselves rather than being paralysed by worries of what might be.

We cannot escape the trouble of life. Life is by its nature a risking business. It does us no good to waste our days worrying about what might go wrong. Instead what we need to do is embrace the risk of life. I’m not saying to go involve ourselves in foolish risk taking, no what I mean is that we need to give ourselves away to something useful, something beautiful, something life enhancing. The key is to “risk ourselves for the world…to hazard ourselves for the right thing.” As David Whyte wrote in his essay on “Longing” from his wonderful book “CONSOLATIONS:The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words.”

To quote David:

"We are here essentially to risk ourselves in the world. We are a form of invitation to others and to otherness, we are meant to hazard ourselves for the right thing, for the right woman or the right man, for a son or a daughter, for the right work or for a gift given against all the odds. And in all this continual risking the most profound courage may be found in the simple willingness to allow ourselves to be happy along the way….”

I just want to repeat the last sentence ‘in all this continual risking the most profound courage may be found in the simple willingness to allow ourselves to be happy along the way….’

Worry can eat away at any chance to be happy in daily living.

None of us knows what the future holds. There will be joy and there will be troubles ahead for all of us. That said we cannot waste this life worrying about what might be before it ever happens. Surely it is better to risk our lives to some greater love, whatever that love might be. It’s love of course that leads us to a sense of wholeness and connection with all of life.

So, I am not saying to you this morning, don’t worry. What would be the point of that? Instead what I am saying is turn your worry into concern, be inspired by it and act in this world in loving and more beautiful ways. You never know but by doing so you might just allow yourself to be happy along the way.

I will end today with a favourite poem by favourite farmer poet Wendell |Berry “The Peace of Wild Things” which offers a solution to being consumed and paralysed by fear. It came to me as I walked around King George V pond the other morning after I had finished writing our Cheryl’s eulogy and before I returned to write this sermon. As I wandered around the pond with Molly safely in her papoose, and as I observed the ducks, the geese and swans,I took in the peace of wild things having turned my worry into useful concern. Yes I shed tears, but I also connected to the life all around and as I rested in the grace of the world and I felt free.

“The Peace of Wild Things” by Wendell Berry

When despair for the world grows in me
and I wake in the night at the least sound
in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,
I go and lie down where the wood drake
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.
I come into the peace of wild things
who do not tax their lives with forethought
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.
And I feel above me the day-blind stars
waiting with their light. For a time
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.

Below is a video devotion based 
on the material in this "blogspot2



Monday, 19 September 2022

Falling Leaves: Loving What is Mortal

Each morning when we awaken we do not know what the day will bring, there will no doubt be some kind of ying and yang to it, there will be blessings and curses, joys and sufferings. Last Saturday was one of those such days. I spoke with my auntie Lynne, she told me that my cousin Cheryl’s life was coming to an end. I then met with friends. An hour or so later the news came through that Cheryl had died, I was fortunate to be with those friends. Although we knew what was coming, it was still a shock to the system, losing dear Cheryl.

An hour later I set off on a long car journey, alone. I was going to pick up a puppy dog, the lovely Havanese Molly. It was a day the reminded me so powerfully of the impermanence of life, although of course not of love, that always lives on. Physical life though comes into being and sadly comes to end. Those that remain are left to grieve. Of course as a nation we are currently grieving the loss of Queen Elizabeth II after a 70 year reign.

Each morning when we awaken we do not know what the day will bring. So how do we prepare ourselves for the unknowable? This is a question that brings to my heart the following poem by David Whyte

“What To Remember When Waking”

In that first hardly noticed moment in which you wake,
coming back to this life from the other
more secret, moveable and frighteningly honest world
where everything began,
there is a small opening into the new day
which closes the moment you begin your plans.

What you can plan is too small for you to live.
What you can live wholeheartedly will make plans enough
for the vitality hidden in your sleep.

To be human is to become visible
while carrying what is hidden as a gift to others.
To remember the other world in this world
is to live in your true inheritance.

You are not a troubled guest on this earth,
you are not an accident amidst other accidents
you were invited from another and greater night
than the one from which you have just emerged.

Now, looking through the slanting light of the morning window
toward the mountain presence of everything that can be
what urgency calls you to your one love?
What shape waits in the seed of you
to grow and spread its branches
against a future sky?

Is it waiting in the fertile sea?
In the trees beyond the house?
In the life you can imagine for yourself?
In the open and lovely white page on the writing desk?

By David Whyte

When we awaken, we have no idea what the day will bring. The day is a blank page. It is in that first hardly noticed moment, when you open your eyes again, that the sacredness of life is born; a sacredness which we lose when we make plans that deny that things are always changing. In that moment we close the moment, the reality, of what it means to be human, to be alive.

I have been watching the leaves falling these last few weeks. They have fallen earlier this year, no doubt a consequence of a hot summer. Watching those leaves falling reminds me of the impermanence of life, something that is hard to accept for most of us, including myself at times. Marina Popova has described this as ‘that perennial heartbreak of beholding the absurdity of our longing for permanence in a universe of constant change’.

It brought back to my mind the first of those Delphic Maxims “Know Thyself”, to know yourself of course meant to know that you are mortal, that your life will come into being, but will also come to an end. Mortality is the beauty and energy of our lives, it reminds me just how precious life is. I have watched my new puppy Molly come to life and confidence these last few days, she is a great responsibility. Being a dog it is likely that I will watch her grew and develop and become who she is, but I will also have to live with the knowledge that I will one day witness the end of her life. It will break my heart. For now I will enjoy her and my responsibility for her life. She is the most joyful of blessings.

This brings to my mind one of my favourite Mary Oliver poems “In Blackwater Woods”. I have named my puppy Miss Molly Malone. Now everyone has assumed that she is named after the Irish folk song. Well, if truth be told, she isn’t she is actually named after Mary Oliver’s life partner and wife “Molly Malone Cook”.

Here is the poem:

“In Blackwater Woods” by Mary Oliver

Look, the trees
are turning
their own bodies
into pillars

of light,
are giving off the rich
fragrance of cinnamon
and fulfillment,

the long tapers
of cattails
are bursting and floating away over
the blue shoulders

of the ponds,
and every pond,
no matter what its
name is, is

nameless now.
Every year
Everything
I have ever learned

in my lifetime
leads back to this: the fires
and the black river of loss
whose other side

is salvation,
whose meaning
none of us will ever know.
To live in this world

you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it
go,
to let it go.

I love Mary Oliver, she had such a real spirituality, connected to the ground in which all being exists. She saw the beauty in life, without ever hiding from the shadow, the darkness. In many ways she found God just as much in the darkness and suffering of life as the beauty of the natural world, expressed so beautifully in this poem, as she reminds us here “that, thankfully, the other side of the river of loss is salvation”. By the way she was in no way sentimental about the natural world. She was a very real observing and writer about life and at the same time truly soulful.

This poem reminds me how vital it is that I follow her instruction to “love what is mortal, to hold it against our bones, as if your life depends upon it (because I have learnt my life does) and when the time comes, to let go.” Sounds simple doesn’t, but it is far from easy. That said I agree with her, it is the only way to truly live in this world. I will repeat again her final words: “To live in this world you must be able to do three things: to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go.”

It brings to mind some other words from another hero Forrest Church:

“The fact that death is inevitable gives meaning to our love, for the more we love, the more we risk losing. Love’s power comes, in part, from the courage required to give ourselves to that which is not ours to keep: our spouses, children, parents, dear and cherished friends.”

It takes courage to love what is mortal, to hold it to your bones as if your life depended upon it and when the time come to let it go, it takes true faith and courage.

The falling leaves remind me of this. They are letting go of what is mortal. Why do we find it so hard? Why do we wish to cling on forever to what is mortal.

The Buddhist say that life is dukkha, that there is suffering in life, that nothing last forever, is permanent, that everything in life is impermanent. I was thinking of this as I looked at those fallen leaves, as I watched Molly playing with them and noticed how many we were accidently carrying into the house. I thought of the cycle of life, how this time next year it will have gone full circle. There will be loss, there will be new life, there will be suffering and above all there will be love.

Remember as Mary wrote:

To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things:
to love what is mortal;
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it
go,
to let it go.

I am holding these words in my heart at the moment. They teach me how to live spiritually alive. They teach me a beautiful reverence for life, how sacred life is, how vital it is to recognise this. To love as deeply as you can this life, to love fiercely and hold those you love tightly to your heart and when the time comes, when they breathe their last breath, to let them go. You have to in order to love this mortal life that we are all a part of. This is the only way to live spiritually alive.

This is what we are here for, to live and to love what is mortal, our lives depend upon it.

Below is a devotion based on the
 material in this "Blogspot"