In one of my favorite books, Braiding Sweetgrass, author Robin Wall Kimmerer writes, “..It is not enough to weep for our lost landscapes; we have to put our hands in the earth to make ourselves whole again. Even a wounded world is feeding us. Even a wounded world holds us, giving us moments of wonder and joy. I choose joy over despair.”
What makes you whole again? Where in your life do you find wonder and joy? What helps you to breathe? Gardening, like yoga or meditation or prayer, can be a spiritual practice. So can conversations with a friend, acts of service, or marching for justice. Spiritual practice is any action we do with intention, attention, repetition, and commitment. Sometimes it is the daily reminder that pops up on my phone telling me to sit still in silence for twenty minutes a day. Other times the invitation comes from community.
As our lives- and our congregation- become more active, we can support one another in spiritual practice. We do this together in worship- through music, moments of silence, sharing joys and sorrows, rituals of giving and belonging. Each month I am offering a time for spiritual practice together. Our time includes 30 minutes of practice, followed by 30 minutes of reflection on the practice of the day. I will include an invitation to everyone to continue that practice throughout the month, with a reading or resource to assist. This is a drop in group, so you don’t need to sign up in advance. All are welcome.
Our first session on November 14th is focused on “Quieting the Mind and Breath Meditation” . And yes- November 14th is a big day- a Multigenerational Service with New Member Ceremony in the morning, and my Ordination in the afternoon! But this is all the more reason to take time to practice mindfulness together and focus on the breath in shared silence in between. This Sunday’s session will meet with a slightly adjusted time- right after service until 12:00 in the Community Room.
Amidst the busyness of life, may we find ways to ground our spirits together in community.
In peace,
Terri