Gravy

 Gravy

“No other word will do. For that’s what it was.
Gravy.
Gravy, these past ten years.
Alive, sober, working, loving, and
being loved by a good woman. Eleven years
ago he was told he had six months to live
at the rate he was going. And he was going
nowhere but down. So he changed his ways
somehow. He quit drinking! And the rest?
After that it was all gravy, every minute
of it, up to and including when he was told about,
well, some things that were breaking down and
building up inside his head. “Don’t weep for me,”
he said to his friends. “I’m a lucky man.
I’ve had ten years longer than I or anyone
expected. Pure Gravy. And don’t forget it.”

~Raymond Carver, The New Yorker, August 29, 1988 p. 28.

It is not unusual that people coming for spiritual direction are seeking some relief from an addiction. They are under the influence of another “spirit” and have “seen through a glass darkly” that the answer may be a spiritual one with a relationship with what those in recovery call “a higher power.”  They may just come for a brief time.  As a spiritual friend, we are there to care for their soul that has been anesthetized, put to sleep, by drugs, alcohol, work, shopping, etc.  We keep looking to see where God has been working in their life, caring for that soul and keep praying that through those moments they will see that God is leading them to his Spirit. There is a recovery theme or principle that a person caught in addiction must reach some kind of “bottom” before they will have a moment of clarity that leads them to want to change. We look for that bottom and hope to bring to awareness what they can learn from that devastating event or events.

Raymond Carver was a brilliant poet, short story writer, and an alcoholic. When he reaches his bottom in June of 1977, he goes into recovery for 10 years. This is his famous poem about his last ten years in recovery that he writes at age 50 before he dies of lung cancer. It is also inscribed on his tombstone in Port Angeles, Washington.  I sometimes share this poem when that moment of clarity comes.

Olivia Laing has written an insightful book. The Trip to Echo Springs, about the association between creativity and alcohol in the lives of six writers, Hemingway, Tennessee Williams, John Berryman, John Cheever, and Raymond Carver.

Carver is the only one who finds recovery.

Joanna   joannaseibert.com

Ignatian Discernment Lowell Grisham

Ignatius method of discernment. Peace of God

Lowell Grisham

“No one has done more work on the discipline of discernment than the Jesuits, the monastic descendants of Ignatius of Loyola.  Although I can't recall who taught it to me, for many years I've used an Ignatian discernment method from time to time when I've been faced with a choice between two options. Here's the way it was given to me:

In a battle in the early 1500's, Ignatius was seriously wounded.  (I believe his leg was shattered by an artillery shell.)  He spent months of painful convalescence.  He found that his pain was relieved sometimes when he would go into periods of active imagination.  He imagined what his life would be like when he was healed and released from the hospital.  He made up stories about his future life, using all of his senses to place himself into the future.  He created scenes from his imagined future and experienced them vividly -- with sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell -- thinking and feeling what his new life might be.  Whenever Ignatius was actively imagining, his pain would decrease and the time seemed to pass more quickly. He discovered that his imagination gravitated toward two narratives.  In one narrative, he would experience himself becoming a great, chivalrous knight, doing valiant deeds of courage and winning the hand of a noble maiden.  In the other narrative, he would experience himself becoming a knight for Christ, boldly taking the gospel into the most remote or challenging or needed places.  While in active imagination, Ignatius experienced relief with either narrative.  But he noticed a significant difference about where his spirit went afterwards, in the time when he was just taking care of business in a normal state of consciousness.  He noticed in the hours following his narratives about becoming a great warrior knight, that he experienced a sense of turbulence, discomfort and even desolation.  But he noticed in the hours following his imagining about becoming a knight for Christ, that he experienced a sense of consolation, harmony, and especially peace. Ignatius interpreted the sense of peace to be the presence of God, drawing him into God's will for him, helping him to discern the direction of his future.  He embraced the vision of that second narrative, and became a great knight for Christ, desiring to undertake the greatest service possible to the Church and the world.

The presence of peace is a sign of God's will.  In the chaos and storm of a decision, when there are two potential options or directions, I will sometimes use a form of Ignatian discernment practice.  I'll set before me the two options.  One day I will spend some time actively imagining myself living into the first option, using all five senses to create scenes from that future possibility.  Then I will go about my normal daily activity, but I'll keep a bit of attention directed to notice where my spirit goes.  Another day, I'll spend time in active imagination living into the other option.  Then I will pay attention to my spirit, mood and intuition during ordinary business.  What after-affect is there following each separate scenario?

If I sense some form of consolation and peace in the ordinary time following active imagination with one narrative, and if I sense some form of turbulence in the ordinary time following imagination with the other narrative, I'll accept that as a sign of God's will.  The presence of peace is key.

Where does the peace of Christ lead us, especially when our boat seems tossed and we've lost control of our direction? A sense of peace can give direction toward God's will for us and for the fullest exercise of our creativity, courage, freedom and service.  Sometimes a little active imagination can lead us toward discernment.” Lowell Grisham

Loyola Jesuit Institute

When someone comes for a visit for discernment, this is what I first offer. It was loaned to me by Lowell Grisham, rector of St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, Fayetteville, Arkansas

Joanna joannaseibert.com

Elegy for Trees Parker Palmer and W.S. Merwin

 Elegy for Trees Parker Palmer and W. S. Merwin

“Elegy for a Walnut Tree
by W.S. Merwin

Old friend now there is no one alive
who remembers when you were young
it was high summer when I first saw you
in the blaze of day most of my life ago
with the dry grass whispering in your shade
and already you had lived through wars
and echoes of wars around your silence
through days of parting and seasons of absence
with the house emptying as the years went their way
until it was home to bats and swallows
and still when spring climbed toward summer
you opened once more the curled sleeping fingers
of newborn leaves as though nothing had happened
you and the seasons spoke the same language
and all these years I have looked through your limbs
to the river below and the roofs and the night
and you were the way I saw the world

Parker Palmer shared this poem on his weekly column on “Being with Krista Tippett”, Wednesday, May 3, 2017. https://onbeing.org/author/parker-j-palmer/

Tree at the Grand Hotel

This is part of Parker Palmer’s response to this poem. “Some of you will wonder what took me so long, but in recent years I’ve developed a deep appreciation for trees.

I used to take trees for granted. But these days I know that sitting in their presence for a while will leave me refreshed and renewed. I wonder if trees photosynthesize the soul as well as sunlight?.. But most of all, I’m drawn to trees because of something W.S. Merwin says in this lovely poem — the way they slowly and quietly cycle through the seasons ‘as though nothing had happened while our individual and collective lives whirl madly around them.”

I want to remember this. Could “trees photosynthesize the soul?” Being outside with trees does do something to my soul.  Photosynthesis “is a process used by plants to convert light energy into chemical energy (sugar from carbon dioxide and water) that later is released to fuel the plant’s activities and releases oxygen as a waste product.” Plants are like transformers, changing one form of energy into another, changing light energy into chemical energy. Being outside in a forest does transform and quiet my soul. The busyness of my mind, the committee in my head, my to do list, no longer are managing my mind. I am grounded to the ground. I get out of my head into my body. I see a world greater than myself, a power at work greater than myself. As I keep returning to the forest I see how the trees do quietly “cycle through the seasons”. The trees are a constant icon reminding us that we are to be the “steady bow” that Kahil Gibran writes about in the Prophet in his chapter on being a parent. We are indeed all parents caring for this earth that in turn also parent’s us, cares for us.

My father was a forester who for so many Saturdays took people out to plant more trees. Often, we would drive by the pine forest to see how they were growing. This made some synapse change in my cells so that I always had difficulty seeing a tree cut down. This poem is especially meaningful to me today since two large trees in my neighbor’s yard were uprooted last week just outside my window. Yesterday men with chain saws took the trees away. I grieve their absence. It helps to remember that our son and his wife had to cut down a tree that was dying adjacent to where they are building a house. They honored the tree by using the wood to make a mantle over their fireplace.

I look forward to hearing from you about what you have learned from trees and how you honor trees.

Joanna joannaseibert.com