by Rev. Susanna
Several years ago, I kept a journal to track the deepening of my spiritual practice for a course I was taking. This journaling was meant to help us examine just where we were in our spiritual practice, and I had some surprises as I looked at mine. A glimpse into those journals . . .
Week 1
I am a worm. Deepening what spiritual practice? Perhaps I am worthy to touch the hem of the garment of someone who once had a friend who knew someone who had a spiritual practice, but otherwise . . .? What am I doing in a course claiming to have a spiritual practice that I’d like to deepen?
I feel so unworthy, so low. And then, I feel even worse knowing that to be so hard on oneself, so critical and uncompassionate is not considered very spiritual. I’m rapidly sinking below wormdom!
Okay, calm down. I love to garden, and worms are good. It is such a sign of health in the rich soil of a garden to dig in and find a lot of earthworms. Worms are very good. I’m feeling better.
But why did these feelings arise? If I listed all the things I do in my life on a daily basis that were mentioned as good, generous practices, I would be more than adequate. I decide that this is the first time I’ve stopped to measure and consider my spiritual practice, and it’s fine to find it in need of growth. But the severity of my judgment . . . beginner’s panic? Old ingrained habits of severe self-criticism? Worth noting, but as my annelid phase seems to be passing, I’ll just gratefully wiggle on for now.
Week 2
I return from chaplaincy hospital visits. A new feeling, deep in the chest, rather despairing, that is difficult to describe in words: the old African-American man who was trying to ask me for something, and I couldn’t understand until he finally just gave up and closed his eyes in weariness. No matter how well I do with any one patient, I will always seem to fail with another just because of the situation. It helps to realize that this is not a personal failure, but the hopelessness of the situation. Can sure feel like a personal failure, though. I know that I truly, deeply helped several patients today: Madame Gallo, who was so delighted that I could speak French with her; the man with the stroke who cried and finally told me he thought death might be better than this; the old woman who was so happy when I sat close to her and held her hands that she petted and stroked my hands and arms the entire visit. I have also come to learn how those visits that seem so simple and unremarkable to me can have a tremendous effect on the patient.
But the feel of loss and despair is horrible. I know quite clearly that I did not personally fail, nor was it likely that someone else could have done much better. It comforted me to remember “Some things are so worth doing that they are worth doing badly.” This particular “badly” may have been part of my inadequacies, but more about the shape of the world, the nature of our lives in this universe. It is important to keep going when that world seems so overwhelming in its pain and need.
Week 3
Joy. I am experiencing palpable joy on a much more frequent basis, in many ordinary situations. What a joy! (see?) I have never been lacking in great appreciation for beauty nor in deep gratitude for the blessings and gifts that pour into my life, but I seem to be so aware of experiencing mindfulness and gratefulness more frequently, in every fiber of my being—my body, my mind, my heart.
Week 4
So much for joy. Rough week, but seeing the path of ups and downs and highs and lows seems to bring some peace. The practice of meditation that is called “calm abiding’ (shamata) is most valuable in weathering the bumpy journey of life. It is then, in meditation that I can find balance, knowing that peace is available within me. Now, to carry that practice into daily life . . .
