Rebirth

Dear friends. I want to wish you all a happy new year, guided by rebirth. 

Last time we focused on rebirth. We brought the spirit of rebirth and emergence by chanting at the beginning of our time together as we lit the candles that each of you bought. The candles, every shape and size, flickered throughout the evening at the center of our circle. 

We explored our resistance to rebirth. (Questions: tell me a way you resist rebirth? Tell me a way you allow rebirth? Explore what and how you are being reborn. How does the practice of presence affect this birthing. What is being born?)  We all know our fears of change; fears of not being in control; fears of entering unknown territory; fears of some kind of  new responsibility. And yet we are attracted to and desire a rebirth. We often think we know what that rebirth should be, what we want it to be. But rarely does it come exactly as we wish. Sometimes it comes as a big explosion, an outside or an inside upheaval. These can be wild, wondrous and extremely difficult times.

But often the rebirth appears subtly, so subtly that we miss the upwelling. Often we don't know how the rebirth came about. Something changed and we had nothing to do with it. Perhaps in hindsight we can see the germination, but often we don't see it. Grace or presence works in mysterious ways; underground, out of our consciousness. Like the farm field that is left to go fallow. On the surface it looks like hell:  bits of corn, soybean from previous plantings, a hodge-podge of weeds. Our lives often look like this. Kinda messy. But under the fallow field, the nitrogen fixing nodules of plants are in the process of rejuvenation. The soil is fed. And in the next year's planting there is renewed vigor. This is how our practice of presence works. We meditate, we come back over and over. Our meditations are terrible. There are moments of opening and we grasp at those gifts. And then it all turns to hell again. As we practice we are preparing the field, the vessel, our bodies for rebirth to have its way with us. We are cultivating patience, steadfastness, courage. These qualities may be the rebirth itself. For without them we will be spiritual day trippers. Not a bad thing to go on day trips, fun and precious but a day trip cannot take you deep. And the more you practice the more you become a pilgrim, a pilgrim through life. Each step, each breath.

I walked the labyrinth with two friends on Christmas Day. The Chartres labyrinth --dedicated to the mother of god-- is a poor person's  pilgrimage to Jerusalem.  The only choice you make is to enter the labyrinth. From then on it is simple: one step at a time. At times you are tantalizingly close to the  center (shaped like a rose) then in the next few steps you are way out at the periphery. It winds back and forth until you end up at the center for some moments of rest. And then this whole process unwinds itself until you exit the labyrinth. This patten traces the spiritual journey. I experienced boredom, cold toes, moments of stillness and silence and love for my friends who journeyed with me. No big deal. No parting of the heavens on this Christmas morning. But this was how the practice of presence showed up that day. 

I have come to trust the quiet rebirths more than the big ones, not that I have any choice in the matter!  And with all rebirths the superego will rise up to reestablish the old familiar way of being. Our familiar way of being resists rebirth and becomes, angry, judgmental, anxious and fearful.  This is like the movement from the inner path to the outer path on the labyrinth. 

Staying faithful, means returning over and over to this moment. Will we fail? Yes! But the amazing thing about the presence of grace is that your failures are not graded or tallied up. What matters is that you return. Sometimes we return in the next breath and sometimes we return years later! It helps to have fellow labyrinth walkers, fellow pilgrims. We remind each other when we forget. We inspire each other when we loose heart.  And when we practice together the communion of presence grows. 

Joe and I have decided to open up our circle until the middle of January we will then close the group. If you know people who are interested please ask them to contact Joe or myself. We are sensing that the theme for this winter is the continuation of exploring rebirth on the one hand and spiritual and religious wounding on the other. Our wounds are deep and real. What does it mean to be reborn in the midst of our wounding. Perhaps the surprise is that our wounds, our sacred wounds, are the very place of the opening into grace. By holding in presence what is injured, a healing openness can arise, and then perhaps the sweetness of truth begins to emerge. Nothing is fixed. All is allowed.

Blessings to you all in the new year. Hope to see you January 7th. Alison