G. and I just got back from a few days away, visiting my sister in Maine. If you haven’t been getting out much, a little break from the place where you live — as wonderful as it may be — is good for the psyche. Thank you, Big Sis! We had a spectacular winter afternoon walk on Ogunquit Beach, which we had to ourselves.
On the walk, “Be Here Now” worked for us as we kept up a pace through the sand, but we also had thoughts about people in my family — generations back — who loved this place… and also thought ahead to plans for next summer and to plans for the rest of our lives.
Before leaving for Maine, I attended two workshops on Centering Prayer at our local Episcopal church. The two leaders of the workshop I attended are certified by Contemplative Outreach, Ltd. a network “committed to living the contemplative dimension of the Gospel.” In the first workshop (a group of about a dozen people, including the leaders) we were all asked to say what brought us to the workshop. Many of the participants, including me, responded along the lines of wanting to get to know God better. The lyrics of the George Harrison song, “My Sweet Lord” (can someone explain to me what is going in this official video of the song on YouTube?) kept running through my head.
Centering Prayer is a form of meditation, also referred to as “contemplative” prayer, with a tradition that stretches back at least to early Christianity. In modern times, it has been promoted by Thomas Keating, who was a Trappist monk in the US (1923-2018). As Keating explains in his book Open Mind, Open Heart, contemplative prayer fell out of fashion for centuries, but experienced a resurgence in the later part of the 20th century, perhaps coinciding with (or prompted by?) the rising interest in the West in Transcendental Meditation, Yoga, and all forms of Buddhist meditation.
Centering Prayer, like TM, can involve two sessions daily of about 20 minutes, sitting quietly with your eyes closed and your feet on the floor. We were instructed to choose a sacred word as a symbol of our “intention to consent to God’s presence and action within” (this is part of the deceptively simple “Four Guidelines of Centering Prayer”). But we were told that the sacred word — which could be something simple, like “Peace” — is NOT a mantra, but a word to say gently to ourselves to remind us to let go of our thoughts, which could be “feelings, images, reflections, and body sensations.” The thoughts were likened to things floating down the river that you watch go by, and also to overheard conversations at a cocktail party. (You hear them, but the conversation that you’re concentrating on is something different.) I had been using the word “Peace,” but asked if a phrase like “Come Holy Spirit” could be used. My friend S. suggested the Aramaic word, “maranatha,” which essentially means just that.
I haven’t been doing this for very long, and certainly, getting in two 20-minute sessions a day is a challenge. One of the workshop leaders suggested giving it a try for six months to see what happens.
So far — the thoughts just keep coming. The closest I get to the blankness of receptivity to divine presence, as I repeat my sacred word (not as a bludgeon, but as a gentle nudge to keep the thoughts flowing away down the river), is still an awareness of bodily sensation — the phosphenes behind my eyelids, and the electrical hum (tinnitus?) that I hear inside my head.
I asked G. if she hears the hum — she said no. G. years ago received Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) training through her employer. She was taught Mindfulness Meditation, which involves focusing on the breath. So she brings that to Centering Prayer when she practices, although it is not emphasized as a requirement. I was delighted to learn that her sacred word today was “Joy.”
“I really want to know you, Lord, but it takes so long, my Lord.”
George Harrison may not have been in the same league with Teresa of Ávila, Julian of Norwich, Dalai Lama, Desmond Tutu, Thích Nhất Hạnh, Martin Luther King, Jr., (and so many others), but he WAS a deep thinker, and like many of these deep thinkers, had a profound sense of humor.
Footnote: As has been widely publicized and discussed, George Harrison was found in 1976 to have “subconsciously plagiarized” the Ronnie Mack song, “He’s So Fine,” that the Chiffons made a hit in 1963. According to the Wikipedia article about “My Sweet Lord,” George Harrison averred that “My Sweet Lord” was actually inspired by the wonderful (out-of-copyright) gospel song, “Oh Happy Day.”
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