What I want to do this morning is run (away), so what I’m forcing myself to do is sit (still). I want to run away from the anxiety I feel about so many things, not the least of which are the fires raging here in California, the loss of life, home, habitat, and economy. There is also personal, marital, and professional grist for the mill of my unhappy mind, so I found myself doing what I often do on high stress days – (after sweeping of course). I started making a list of all the things I “have” to do today: errands, emails, the gym, banking, cooking, cleaning, but it’s total bullshit.  I don’t have to do any of it, but I would much prefer to do those things than to be present to the world’s pain, or my own. If I stay busy with what is “urgent” then I can ignore what is important.

Is a trip to Vons to buy juice boxes for Molly’s lunch more important than struggling with some life questions that might set me on a new path? Nope, but it’s way easier to check it off my list.

I don’t have to put it in such binary terms. I can do both kinds of things. I can work out, go grocery shopping, put in a half-day at Wavelines and have time for meditation, and journaling, but the temptation is to start checking things off the “urgent” list and never get to the end of it, and therefore never get to the things that are ultimately transformative and life-giving. For all the days I follow that pattern, a beautiful part of what it means to be human – to learn, to change, to grow in life and love – is lost. So today, I am starting with the prayer and meditation, with poetry and writing to all of you and I’ll get to rest later. (Tim, I’m going to be a little late getting to the shop today!)

Let me leave you with this thought.

I want to do something to ease the suffering of those affected by the California wildfires, but I’m too far away to be of any help personally. So I can donate some money, reach out to those I know are hurting and I can pray. I’m not sure exactly what good that last item does, but this poem by Alice Walker in her latest book, Taking the Arrow Out of the Heart, has strengthened my resolve to keep at it.

“The Energy of the Wave”

As a child I sensed

but did not

grasp

the power

of prayer.

It was my innocence

of the depths

that kept me unaware.

How could the passion of the heart

sent flying towards others

through humble words

change anything?

Or, rather,

what might this change?

 But prayer is an energy

that crosses mountains and deserts

and continents and seas

and is never stopped

nor even slowed

by anything.

It arrives

at its destination

as a blessing

that says: I feel – though it is but

a shadow of your sorrow –

the suffering

that has befallen

you.

Though far away,

you are securely cradled

 in the safety

of my heart.

I am but a droplet

in what must become

a vast sea

to create the big wave

that washes

away

whatever demons

are harming

you.

Prayer is the beginning: when

we don’t know

what else to do.

It is in this

spirit

of awareness and near impotence

beloved

kin

of butchered Africa

that we stand with you.

 

Walker dedicated this poem to the people of Africa, but I am confident in its universal application. So let us pray today for all the sorrows in all the hearts in all parts of the world, as far as we can imagine and as close as our own. Let our prayers be a droplet in a wave of compassion, generosity, forgiveness and mercy that this world so desperately needs.