Today I ran 5 miles to get to my new gym's lunch-hour pilates class. I'm really bad at anything requiring flexibility, but have finally internalized that it's more about getting out there and trying really hard than looking good while doing it.
A year ago, I never would have considered running the three blocks it took to get to my old gym. I walked once in awhile, but usually drove the few times I went. In body and mind, I am miles away from where I was then.
I started 2011 in an emotional wilderness and decided to try running as a way toward peace of mind. I nearly failed. I learned that in order to start a running life, you have to bring ALL you have in body, mind and spirit. I did not believe that I had enough to bring at first, but I kept at it, finding more that I had been holding back.
Bringing it all to the table in order to be blessed is the lesson of Exodus 39:33-43, one of my favorite Biblical passages. At first glance, it is just a list of items required for the Tabernacle -- but to me, it's a beautiful poem of devotion.
The details, one would think, would be irrelevant to the larger story, which is that a group of people build a house for God to live in, which by itself isn't remarkable, until He does -- in the form of a mysterious, sparkly cloud.
Given that exciting reality, it is confusing why the author(s) spend so little time talking about the Cloud and so much time listing all of the details of what items go into making the tabernacle.
I love the poetry of the line, "its buttons, its boards, its bars..."
39:33 And they brought the tabernacle to Moses, the tent, and
all its furniture, its buttons, its boards, its bars, and its
pillars, and its sockets,
And the covering of rams' skins dyed red, and the covering
of badgers' skins, and the vail of the covering,
The ark of the testimony, and its staffs, and the
mercy-seat,
The table, [and] all its vessels, and the show-bread,
The pure candlestick, [with] its lamps, [even with] the
lamps to be set in order, and all its vessels, and the oil for
light,
And the golden altar, and the anointing oil, and the sweet
incense, and the hanging for the tabernacle-door,
The brazen altar, and its grate of brass, its staffs, and
all its vessels, the laver and its foot,
The hangings of the court, its pillars, and its sockets,
and the hanging for the court-gate, its cords, and its pins,
and all the vessels of the service of the tabernacle, for the
tent of the congregation,
The clothes of service to do service in the holy [place],
and the holy garments for Aaron the priest, and his sons'
garments, to minister in the priest's office.
According to all that the LORD commanded Moses, so the
children of Israel made all the work.
And Moses looked upon all the work, and behold, they had
done it as the LORD had commanded, even so had they done it:
and Moses blessed them.
After reading it a few times, I realized I was way more attracted to the intricacy of the list than the mystery of the Cloud.
The passage is about something miraculous indeed: how people who are in a vulnerable place figure out a way out of the wilderness by devoting themselves to making beautiful things. They bring it all to a place they call Sacred, and the Sacred comes to meet them there. They are confident it will happen, and love it into being.
In the past year, I've started to conceive of building my body as a home worthy enough for my divine self. I'm having to love it into being with self-confidence, which is challenging, but possible.
I'm glad to be finishing 2011 in a stronger place than where I started. I hope you are, too. Here's to a wonderful year of blessings to come!
Tuesday, December 20, 2011
Sunday, December 18, 2011
swifter than the mind
Hit a milestone today: >10 miles in one stretch. I saw a lot of scenery, and almost outran the battery life on my iTouch. It was a good day.
From the Isa Upanishad:
That One, though motionless, is swifter than the mind. The senses can never overtake It, for It ever goes before. Though immovable, It travels faster than those who run. It moves and It moves not. It is far and also It is near. It is within and also It is without all this. It is near to those who have the power to understand It, for It dwells in the heart of every one.
From the Isa Upanishad:
That One, though motionless, is swifter than the mind. The senses can never overtake It, for It ever goes before. Though immovable, It travels faster than those who run. It moves and It moves not. It is far and also It is near. It is within and also It is without all this. It is near to those who have the power to understand It, for It dwells in the heart of every one.
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Her Perfect Beauty
I ran just three little miles today, but picked them out of the earth like flowers in the honor of Our Lady of Guadalupe, whose feast day is tomorrow. Her story reminds us that the lowly are the most precious in their ability to realize the extraordinary beauty of the Eternal.
Here's an excerpt from the account of her appearance to Juan Diego, a Mexica Aztec indian peasant, in 1531. Called the Nican Mopohua, it was written in the 16th century in the Nahuatl poetry tradition, which offers some of the most beautiful poetry in the history of the Americas:
7. As he approached the small hill called Tepeyac, as the day was already breaking,
8. he heard singing from the small hill, like the song of many fine birds; when their voices ceased it was as if the hill answered with songs even more gentle, more joyful than those of the coyoltototl, the tzinitzcan and of other delicate song birds.
9. Juan stopped to look around. He said to himself: "Am I worthy of what I hear? Perhaps I am only dreaming it? Perhaps I am only seeing it as in dream?
10. Where am I? Where do I find myself? Could this be the place that the old ones, our ancestors, spoke about; the land of flowers, the land of corn, of our meat and our sustenance? Could this be the heavenly land?"
11. He stood looking up towards the top of the hill, from the side where the sun rises, from where the beautiful celestial song came.
12. When the song suddenly ceased, when it could no longer be heard, then he began to hear someone calling him from the top of the little hill: "Juanito, Juan Dieguito!"
13. Then he dared to go where he was being called. Nothing troubled his heart: he was not anxious about anything. Rather, he felt extremely joyous and happy; he made his way up to the small hill to see where he was being called.
14. When he came to the summit of the little hill, a Maiden was standing there. When she saw him,
15. She told him to come closer.
16. When he arrived in front of Her, He greatly admired in what manner, above all comprehension, her perfect beauty was expressed.
17. Her dress shone like the sun, as if it were gleaming,
18. and the stone, the rock on which she was standing, seemed to be sending forth beams of light;
19. Her splendor looked like that of precious stones, as "ajorca" (though even more beautiful),
20. the ground sparkled as the rays of a rainbow in the mist.
Here's an excerpt from the account of her appearance to Juan Diego, a Mexica Aztec indian peasant, in 1531. Called the Nican Mopohua, it was written in the 16th century in the Nahuatl poetry tradition, which offers some of the most beautiful poetry in the history of the Americas:
7. As he approached the small hill called Tepeyac, as the day was already breaking,
8. he heard singing from the small hill, like the song of many fine birds; when their voices ceased it was as if the hill answered with songs even more gentle, more joyful than those of the coyoltototl, the tzinitzcan and of other delicate song birds.
9. Juan stopped to look around. He said to himself: "Am I worthy of what I hear? Perhaps I am only dreaming it? Perhaps I am only seeing it as in dream?
10. Where am I? Where do I find myself? Could this be the place that the old ones, our ancestors, spoke about; the land of flowers, the land of corn, of our meat and our sustenance? Could this be the heavenly land?"
11. He stood looking up towards the top of the hill, from the side where the sun rises, from where the beautiful celestial song came.
12. When the song suddenly ceased, when it could no longer be heard, then he began to hear someone calling him from the top of the little hill: "Juanito, Juan Dieguito!"
13. Then he dared to go where he was being called. Nothing troubled his heart: he was not anxious about anything. Rather, he felt extremely joyous and happy; he made his way up to the small hill to see where he was being called.
14. When he came to the summit of the little hill, a Maiden was standing there. When she saw him,
15. She told him to come closer.
16. When he arrived in front of Her, He greatly admired in what manner, above all comprehension, her perfect beauty was expressed.
17. Her dress shone like the sun, as if it were gleaming,
18. and the stone, the rock on which she was standing, seemed to be sending forth beams of light;
19. Her splendor looked like that of precious stones, as "ajorca" (though even more beautiful),
20. the ground sparkled as the rays of a rainbow in the mist.
Saturday, December 3, 2011
Running in the cold proved quite a struggle this morning in terms of breathing, but perhaps there was a blessing in it: my body made me slow down and pay attention.
From Denise Levertov:
"The Breathing"
An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White
cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.
From Denise Levertov:
"The Breathing"
An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White
cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear.
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