#MicroPoetry|August ’20 Reflections

Often our habits become so ingrained that we respond almost as if by instinct. When these habitual responses occur, we often think that is the way it is supposed to be. Change becomes something to resist as that which we know feels safe and normal. Yet the inner journey, which is not always easy, can reveal that these habits though ‘comfortable’ are not, in fact, good for us. To awaken to this, therefore, leaves us with this challenge:

Shall we claim the choice before us or will we continue to allow our habits to determine where we go?

What is the measure of a person?

This is an old question and one which I have found defies simple or trite answers. But there are touchstones that can serve to point to such measures. How we respond to those moments we have not unanticipated, that arise and threaten to overwhelm are the ways I have come to see people arise or awaken to do amazing things, some might even call miracles. As I consider this verse, the touchstones of bravery, courage, trust, and faith feel like helpful companions in exploring this old question.

Hope … it’s often referenced perhaps too lightly as something simple to attain and even easier to retain. Though an interesting possibility, my experience has shown that hope is as much a discipline as a feeling or idea.

Life is hard and its journey is often not easy. To continue to have hope requires many things to nurture. In the Christian context this is where the idea of discipline and Grace meet. To hope is to be committed to a way of being and receiving compassion and also in recognising, ultimately, that control, is not ours but that of Creator.

Listening: some call it an art, even a skillset. Though a helpful way to understand the act, I also like the idea that it is a discipline or practice that is central to what we are meant to be.

Listening, in this context, allows me to wonder about what it is we might hear. If we do it with intention and make space to silence the constant noise that bombards us in our day-to-day lives, I believe that we can hear the Universe. This voice, presence, energy, ultimately, reveals that we are bound to a much larger unity we might call ‘Oneness.’

It is easy, and sometimes easiest, to try to avoid change. This is even more a challenge when privilege tempts us with the distraction, even temptation, to resist and place stability ahead of the needs of others and, ultimately, ourselves. Yet if change’s constant were something we recognise as ‘normal,’ what might we, individually and collectively begin to see?
What do we miss, even lose, when our focus simply anchors in what is, as opposed what will inevitably be?

Happiness & Hope, I believe, are connected on a spectrum of the ways we do – or do not – practice being present and intentional in our daily choices. Such choices involve our own well-being and how we engage with others and whether we apply that same internal practice to our external relationships. This inner work becomes manifest in what we model in our lives. When aligned well, Happiness, internally, becomes an external reality of being Hope.

A metaphor to which I continue to be drawn for life and the spiritual journey is the ‘dance floor.’ It is an elegant and invitational way to understand the ups and downs, highs and lows of this linear living path upon which we are all set. Furthermore, imagining that the song is Creator further intrigues me. How we hear Creator in each stage of life, what kind of tempo and beat feels like a creative way to reflect on where we find ourselves and to where we might be heading.

This verse is highly influenced by the learnings, perhaps even reminders, that arose during COVID-19 isolation. There remains in this ever connected and digital world the need for ongoing learning. Whether that is in regard to skills and tools or self-reflection and knowing, we are living in a time in which life-long-learning is not a slogan or catch phrase, but a discipline. Being aware of this has only been sharpened after living in the reality of a pandemic.