The Loving-Kindness Meditation: A Daily Way of Life

The Loving-Kindness Meditation

 “Sitting comfortably, lying down, driving, sitting in a meeting, waiting in the hospital, or in any other potentially stressful situation.”

 Repeat these words silently, intending to send loving-kindness to yourself:

‘May I be peaceful. May I be happy. May I be safe.’

Next, silently repeat the exact words, directing loving-kindness toward someone you love:

‘May I be peaceful. May I be happy. May I be safe.’

Next, silently repeat the exact words, intending loving-kindness to reach a neutral person in your life, someone you barely know:

‘May I be peaceful. May I be happy. May I be safe.’

Finally, silently repeat the exact words, intending loving-kindness toward someone you are in conflict with or dislike:

‘May I be peaceful. May I be happy. May I be safe.’

Take a breath. Inhale, then exhale.

Notice your reactions during this meditation. Accept what you notice. Be aware of your thoughts, emotions, or responses to this meditation or to the people you directed it toward. This is mindfulness practice.

—Madhuleena Roy Chowdhury,  “What is Loving-Kindness Meditation?”

https://positivepsychology.com/loving-kindness-meditation/

 

Dr. Jay McDaniel, a retired professor of Religion, Philosophy of Religion, and Theology at Hendrix College, spoke recently at St. Mark’s Episcopal Church about using this Loving-Kindness Prayer if we have difficulty loving our enemies. The Loving-Kindness meditation is an ancient Buddhist meditation on unconditional love, with no expectations of receiving anything in return. The many forms of the Loving-Kindness meditation direct our thoughts and love toward ourselves and others.

The original name of this practice is metta bhavana, which comes from the Pali language. Metta means love in a non-romantic sense. It is our word for friendliness or kindness, thus loving-kindness. It is an emotion, something you feel in your heart. Bhavana means development or cultivation.

Our nation desperately needs healing. We can start with this loving-kindness meditation and see what happens.

Nouwen: Healing Our Hearts Through Forgiveness

Nouwen: Healing Our Hearts Through Forgiveness 

“How can we forgive those who do not want to be forgiven? But if our condition for giving forgiveness is that it be received, we will seldom forgive! Forgiving others is an act that removes anger, bitterness, and the desire for revenge from our hearts. First and foremost, forgiving others is about healing our own hearts.”—Henri Nouwen in Bread for the Journey (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997). 

Several years ago, I was part of an amazing group of women in Searcy, Arkansas, as we discussed forgiveness. One of the first questions from two women was, “How can I forgive someone who has harmed me or someone I love when they do not recognize they have done any wrong?”

These are the most complex hurts for me to forgive as well. We think we are doing fine, but when we hear that the people involved see no wrongdoing on their part, an angry dragon rears its head again. This anger is nothing like our initial reaction, yet it still endangers our body, mind, and soul. We allow the people and the situation to continue harming us—unless we can transform that energy into something useful for our bodies and the world.

I think of a small church-related school that many of my friends attended, which closed overnight. After several years, most of us have worked through the disappointment and moved on. We will all carry a scar, but for the most part, the wound is healing.

Most of us decided that if we cannot forgive those involved in the closing or those who did nothing to prevent it, we remain hurt. They occupy space in our minds, lives, bodies, and relationships with others. We have all prayed to transform this hurt’s enormous energy into something positive. We are all now discovering gold within this pain. 

I often visit a place where I recall the children, teachers, and school board singing and carrying small, lit candles through tears as they walked out into the world in pairs at the conclusion of the school’s final graduation. What I cherish every day is the light each of those involved at this school now brings to many other schools, homes, churches, and places of work.

We have been sent out to share what we learned from that experience: the relationships, the love, the kindness toward others, the acceptance of differences, and the belief in a loving God. For example, Jennifer, shown in the upper picture and formerly on the school board, is now changing more lives as the president and CEO of Achieve Community Alliance, formerly United Cerebral Palsy of Arkansas. In the lower picture is Beth Maze, the school chaplain, who now leads formation at St. Paul’s in Fayetteville, the largest church in our diocese.

There was an abundance of light radiating from that school. That is why it was so hard to leave. But now we are commissioned to carry the light we received there into the wider world. We can make a difference in so many other lives, and many continue to do just that.

Joanna  https://www.joannaseibert.com/

 

 

 

Storm Warnings

Storm Warnings

Storm Coming Patti Martin

“Jesus also said to the crowds, ‘When you see a cloud rising in the west, you immediately say, ‘It is going to rain’; and so it happens. You know how to interpret the appearance of the earth and sky, but why do you not know how to interpret the present time? And why do you not judge for yourselves what is right?’”—Luke 12:54-57.

I sit and watch a storm roll in off the beach in the early morning. The sun is out, with blue skies to the east, but the sky is grayer to the west. Clouds move overhead. Sometimes the dark overhead carpet seems so close that I feel I can almost touch it. Fishing boats return to port to weather the coming storm. Birds take shelter. The great blue heron moves inland. The pelicans are nowhere to be seen. The mighty osprey is the last to give up, looking for one more meal before returning to her nest. A violent wind precedes and announces the pivotal event, bringing almost horizontal, driving rain.

Jesus reminds us that we see signs that storms may be coming in our lives. Our children act out, or their grades at school drop. We receive occasional hints that a project is not going well, but we are too busy to address it right now. Later. Too many other things are going on. We recall how a particular food affected us in the past, yet we still eat it anyway. Our clothes no longer fit, but we do not change our eating habits, exercise routine, or lifestyle. We ignore pain, a sign that some body part needs attention. 

The same principle applies to our spiritual life. Our prayer life feels dry. We cannot remember our dreams. We can no longer write. Everything we read seems dull and uninteresting. We make every excuse not to attend corporate worship. We stop going outdoors. It is too hot. Too cold. Too sunny. Too cloudy. We stop talking to friends. We isolate ourselves. 

In medicine, a sign is an outward or objective finding that suggests what is going on, such as the red butterfly rash across the nose characteristic of lupus erythematosus. On the other hand, a symptom is something that is subjectively experienced by an individual, such as lupus-related fatigue or pain associated with a urinary tract infection, and it requires some interpretation. 

We are constantly given signs and experience symptoms in our outer and inner lives that can guide us. God never abandons us. We are called only to keep ourselves “in tune” so we can see and hear. Spiritual directors, spiritual friends, and spiritual practices are gifts that can help us along this journey and put us in a position to connect with God. They assure us that we are not alone and that a directional move or change in course may be needed in our outer or inner life. But then, of course, it is God who changes us.

My own experience, however, is that I am so much like that osprey, waiting until the very last minute before surrendering to something greater than myself.

This last Rembrandt depicts another storm. I grieve every time I see it mentioned. I rejoice that I had the chance to see the mesmerizing painting several times before it was stolen from one of my favorite museums. We see the violent storms of our lives clearly and often have difficulty seeing Christ there with us, yet he is so clearly there, beside us. 

Rembrandt Storm

Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Rembrandt, 1632. This painting was stolen in 1990 during the largest art heist in U.S. history from the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum in Boston. A $10M reward for its recovery has not been claimed. Its empty frame remains hanging in the museum.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/