As those of you who know me are aware, I am deeply interested in the concept of religion and spirituality. Though brought up in the Southern Baptist tradition, I long ago recognized that I could not fit into that that system of beliefs. In fact, I find it difficult to subscribe to any dogma, and cannot join any institution that requires certainty of belief in something that in my view is unknowable. (I therefore am particularly impressed with the vow in item two below.) There is a vastness and a mystery regarding ultimate purpose and meaning that is beyond our human understanding. Furthermore, I do not like the term “commandments.” It implies that some religious authority is “in command” and that I must adhere to whatever is being ordered. In contrast, I see spirituality as an ongoing practice; I continually strive to behave in ways that are constructive to my own development and that do no harm to others. As in all human endeavors, sometimes I fail, but that does not negate the effort.
Anyway, though I do not like the term, and though I do not understand the meaning of the initial statement “God is the source of liberation,” I find these ten “commandments” written by a rabbi influenced by a Buddhist to be useful guidelines as I try to live a life of psychological health and spiritual fulfillment. In that sense I am sharing them with all of you.
The Ten Commandments
By Rabbi Rami Shapiro as inspired by Thich Nhat Hahn
1. God is the source of liberation. Aware of the suffering caused by enslavement to things and ideas, I vow to free myself from all addictions and compulsive behaviors, both material and spiritual.
2. God cannot be named. Aware of the suffering caused by gods created in our own image for our own profit, I vow to recognize all ideas about God as products of human beings, bound by history and circumstance and forever incapable of defining the Reality Beyond Naming.
3. God cannot be owned. Aware of the suffering caused by the misuse of God and religion in the quest of power, I vow to liberate myself from all ideologies that demonize others, and to honor only those teachings that uphold the freedom and dignity of woman, man, and nature.
4. Remember the Sabbath. Aware of the suffering caused by slavish attachment to work, consumption, and technology, I vow to set aside the Sabbath as a day of personal freedom, creativity, and play.
5. Honor your parents. Aware of the suffering caused by old age, I vow to care for my parents to the best of my ability and to promote the dignity and well-being of all elderly people.
6. Do not murder. Aware of the suffering caused by the wanton destruction of life, I vow to cultivate respect and gentleness toward all beings.
7. Avoid sexual misconduct. Aware of the suffering caused by sexual irresponsibility, I vow to honor human sexuality and never degrade it through violence, ignorance, selfishness, or deceit.
8. Do not steal. Aware of the suffering caused by exploitation, injustice, theft, and oppression, I vow to respect the property of others, to work for the just sharing of resources, and to cultivate generosity in myself and my community.
9. Do not lie. Aware of the suffering caused by harmful speech, I vow to speak truthfully and with compassion, to avoid gossip and slander, and to refrain from uttering words that cause needless division or discord.
10. Do not covet. Aware of the suffering caused by endless desire, I vow to live simply and avoid debt, to enjoy what I have before seeking to have more, and to labor for what I desire, honestly and justly.
Monday, January 11, 2010
Friday, January 1, 2010
Looking Back at 2009
It was in January a year ago that I posted my last blog. I am not sure why I have been so negligent, but perhaps it is because I had an unusual period of illness which made me feel as if I was living through a haze of malaise and lethargy, though actually, now that I look back, it was an eventful and rewarding year, filled with travel, visits from grandchildren, preparation and presentation of a lecture and workshop, and the establishment of new routines. Somehow things look different in retrospect.
It was, most significantly, a year of travel. I was in California four times—twice in San Francisco, once in San Diego and once in Santa Barbara—and also in Washington, D.C. But the most exciting trips were to Europe—twice! I had never imagined I would go abroad again, thinking I am much too old, but when the circumstances arose, how could I refuse? The first occasion was in June when Laura and Dan most generously invited me to accompany them and their family to the south of France.
I was concerned that I might be a hindrance in that my energy would not be sufficient to keep up with my younger travel companions. But I was amazed—and pleased—to find that I could climb up those steep hills in Provence and neighboring regions without too much huffing. We drove through beautiful countryside, saw impressive art, and ate fabulous food. Coming home after each day’s outing to a lovely villa overlooking the Mediterranean was an additional pleasure. It was an absolutely wonderful trip. I was in such a calm and centered mood that my family began referring to me as a “Zen traveler.” I am not sure I deserved the title, but it is true that I was never rattled or impatient. I felt blessed to be alive and to be with those I love. Finding such serenity in the midst of the inevitable challenges of travel was a gift of lasting value.
The second European trip was in late October when I accompanied Jenny, Rocky, and Rebecca to Italy where Nick was studying for a semester at New York University’s campus in Florence. We stayed in a lovely, spacious apartment, conveniently located near the center of the city, though it was on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator. Again I was worried, wondering whether my eighty-one-year-old legs could carry me up all those steps, but again was pleased to learn that I could walk miles each day through the beautiful streets of Florence and still make it up those flights of stairs. (I guess it is time to face the fact that I have far more stamina than I had thought.) In addition to visiting with Nick and seeing his campus, we took in many of the historical and esthetic sights of Florence, traveled into the lovely Tuscan countryside, ate fantastic meals and drank copious amounts of good Italian wine. Again, sharing this experience with members of my family was deeply gratifying.
Another highlight for me this year past was when I was asked by the St. Louis Jung Society to give a weekend lecture and workshop on aging. This is a topic that I have done considerable thinking about (and experienced) so I welcomed the chance to present some of my ideas to an audience. The energy reflected back to me the night of the lecture wiped away all my nervousness and made my presentation seem effortless. The attendance was much better than anticipated: the largest number of persons attended the evening lecture than any previously given at the society, indicating that this is indeed a timely subject. On Saturday there was a smaller group of enthusiastic, engaged, and responsive women who participated in the workshop. The entire weekend was an intensely satisfying experience.
Throughout the year I was blessed with visits from my grandchildren. Each one has managed to spend some time with me—a great blessing in my life. I suppose every grandmother thinks her grandchildren are exceptional, but I have good reason to make that claim! Each one—Carolyn, Rebecca, Jessica, Rachel, Nick, and you too Raven—is interesting and thoughtful; each has good, fundamental ethical and moral values; and each possesses a distinctive outlook enriched with special talents. They are still finding their way in the world so I am privileged to watch and participate in their lives as they grow into full adulthood. I enjoy their company and learn from my conversations and interactions with them. They make me very happy.
In contrast to these uplifting occasions, in February I came down with a rather severe case of flu—fever, congestion, gastro-intestinal upset, and general fatigue which lasted for days. I slowly recovered from most of the symptoms, but the gastro-intestinal difficulties persisted for months, until finally in August I consented to a colonoscopy (a rather traumatic event, but that is another story). The resulting biopsies indicated that I had microscopic colitis, a condition that has slowly improved and now—finally!—seems to be healed. In some strange way, this illness was a valuable lesson, helping prepare me for the inevitability of physical decline as I grow older, and also allowing me to practice acceptance. One effect of the illness, and an unexpected benefit, was a diminishment of appetite, causing me to lose about twenty pounds, so I am now at a healthier weight, one I shall try to maintain.
In keeping with my resolve to remain healthy, I have undertaken a daily regimen of at least twenty minutes each of meditation, yoga, and time on my elliptical machine. The discipline is good for me, helps sustain my strength and flexibility, and allows me to cultivate a more relaxed, but energized, outlook on life. Recently I have added to that daily schedule practice time at the piano. One of my intentions for the coming year, in addition to writing more frequently on my blog, is to begin taking piano and voice lessons—a renewal of old interests and skills that had fallen into disuse. I find that making music is good for the soul.
As this New Year begins, I overflow with gratitude, for I am extraordinarily blessed with abundance—of experiences, of pleasures, of family, of friends, of life. Here is a passage from the Jewish Gates of Prayer, one that seems especially appropriate as I move further into the ultimate stage of my life:
Let us treasure the time we have, and resolve to use it well,
counting each moment precious—a chance to apprehend some truth,
to experience some beauty, to conquer some evil,
to relieve some suffering, to love and be loved,
to achieve something of lasting worth.
It was, most significantly, a year of travel. I was in California four times—twice in San Francisco, once in San Diego and once in Santa Barbara—and also in Washington, D.C. But the most exciting trips were to Europe—twice! I had never imagined I would go abroad again, thinking I am much too old, but when the circumstances arose, how could I refuse? The first occasion was in June when Laura and Dan most generously invited me to accompany them and their family to the south of France.
I was concerned that I might be a hindrance in that my energy would not be sufficient to keep up with my younger travel companions. But I was amazed—and pleased—to find that I could climb up those steep hills in Provence and neighboring regions without too much huffing. We drove through beautiful countryside, saw impressive art, and ate fabulous food. Coming home after each day’s outing to a lovely villa overlooking the Mediterranean was an additional pleasure. It was an absolutely wonderful trip. I was in such a calm and centered mood that my family began referring to me as a “Zen traveler.” I am not sure I deserved the title, but it is true that I was never rattled or impatient. I felt blessed to be alive and to be with those I love. Finding such serenity in the midst of the inevitable challenges of travel was a gift of lasting value.
The second European trip was in late October when I accompanied Jenny, Rocky, and Rebecca to Italy where Nick was studying for a semester at New York University’s campus in Florence. We stayed in a lovely, spacious apartment, conveniently located near the center of the city, though it was on the fourth floor of a building with no elevator. Again I was worried, wondering whether my eighty-one-year-old legs could carry me up all those steps, but again was pleased to learn that I could walk miles each day through the beautiful streets of Florence and still make it up those flights of stairs. (I guess it is time to face the fact that I have far more stamina than I had thought.) In addition to visiting with Nick and seeing his campus, we took in many of the historical and esthetic sights of Florence, traveled into the lovely Tuscan countryside, ate fantastic meals and drank copious amounts of good Italian wine. Again, sharing this experience with members of my family was deeply gratifying.
Another highlight for me this year past was when I was asked by the St. Louis Jung Society to give a weekend lecture and workshop on aging. This is a topic that I have done considerable thinking about (and experienced) so I welcomed the chance to present some of my ideas to an audience. The energy reflected back to me the night of the lecture wiped away all my nervousness and made my presentation seem effortless. The attendance was much better than anticipated: the largest number of persons attended the evening lecture than any previously given at the society, indicating that this is indeed a timely subject. On Saturday there was a smaller group of enthusiastic, engaged, and responsive women who participated in the workshop. The entire weekend was an intensely satisfying experience.
Throughout the year I was blessed with visits from my grandchildren. Each one has managed to spend some time with me—a great blessing in my life. I suppose every grandmother thinks her grandchildren are exceptional, but I have good reason to make that claim! Each one—Carolyn, Rebecca, Jessica, Rachel, Nick, and you too Raven—is interesting and thoughtful; each has good, fundamental ethical and moral values; and each possesses a distinctive outlook enriched with special talents. They are still finding their way in the world so I am privileged to watch and participate in their lives as they grow into full adulthood. I enjoy their company and learn from my conversations and interactions with them. They make me very happy.
In contrast to these uplifting occasions, in February I came down with a rather severe case of flu—fever, congestion, gastro-intestinal upset, and general fatigue which lasted for days. I slowly recovered from most of the symptoms, but the gastro-intestinal difficulties persisted for months, until finally in August I consented to a colonoscopy (a rather traumatic event, but that is another story). The resulting biopsies indicated that I had microscopic colitis, a condition that has slowly improved and now—finally!—seems to be healed. In some strange way, this illness was a valuable lesson, helping prepare me for the inevitability of physical decline as I grow older, and also allowing me to practice acceptance. One effect of the illness, and an unexpected benefit, was a diminishment of appetite, causing me to lose about twenty pounds, so I am now at a healthier weight, one I shall try to maintain.
In keeping with my resolve to remain healthy, I have undertaken a daily regimen of at least twenty minutes each of meditation, yoga, and time on my elliptical machine. The discipline is good for me, helps sustain my strength and flexibility, and allows me to cultivate a more relaxed, but energized, outlook on life. Recently I have added to that daily schedule practice time at the piano. One of my intentions for the coming year, in addition to writing more frequently on my blog, is to begin taking piano and voice lessons—a renewal of old interests and skills that had fallen into disuse. I find that making music is good for the soul.
As this New Year begins, I overflow with gratitude, for I am extraordinarily blessed with abundance—of experiences, of pleasures, of family, of friends, of life. Here is a passage from the Jewish Gates of Prayer, one that seems especially appropriate as I move further into the ultimate stage of my life:
Let us treasure the time we have, and resolve to use it well,
counting each moment precious—a chance to apprehend some truth,
to experience some beauty, to conquer some evil,
to relieve some suffering, to love and be loved,
to achieve something of lasting worth.
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