Springing

Carrizo Plain, northeast of SLO

Even on the central coast, where winter lies lightly upon us, there is something magical about spring. 

The first day of spring fell last week; did you notice?  Go outside today and breathe in deeply; take spring in.  There are scents in the air, new colors, and I am not kidding about this, the birds sing louder.  Go quiet and listen.  It is something about their mating habits, I believe; their songs are quite insistent.

Spring is a force of nature.  In our automotive, technological, white-noise lives, we may not notice, but when the whole top half of the planet is doing a wake-up dance, it will have its effect on us whether we notice it or not. 

Our bodies, inasmuch as they are part of the natural world, are also awakening to spring.  It just happens.  We don’t cause it; we can’t regulate it; it just is. 

We can rejoice in it, though!  We can make the most of it.  

When winter, even California winter, begins to recede, we come alive in a way that is different from all the rest of the year.  Our “hibernation” instinct goes dormant.  Have you noticed any lessening of your appetite?  That often happens very subtly in the springtime. 

Do you notice that your interest in fresh fruits and vegetables is sharper?  Are you a little more prone to choose something fresh than something processed?

Are your feet beginning to get restless?  That slightly uneasy feeling you may have... could it be yourself wanting to get outside and work your body a bit?  Could it be a craving for more fresh air, more sunshine, more walking? 

Everything that happens naturally as a result of springtime is great news for those of us pursuing health and well-being.  The forces we’ve fought against all winter... early drowsiness, craving for comfort food, that “slow” feeling that keeps us inside under a blanket with a book in our hands... are in retreat. 

And now, we feel a little call from the outdoors.  Suddenly, a hike sounds like a really pleasant idea.  The produce aisle has more colors, berries are coming back.

Go outside!  Be a part of this wonderful process of spring that comes to us each year, renewing our spirits and bodies.  See if you can feel the whole natural world waking up.  The wildflowers will soon be out in force.  The bees and hummingbirds are revving their engines.  The hills are getting greener. Everything is growing. 

If you have an ache in your heart, take it outside for soothing.  If you have a lowness of spirit left over from winter, let nature minister to you.

Even if you have been outside every day this past winter, go outside today with fresh eyes and a fresh heart.  There is something wonderful happening out there, and we are a part of it. 

Today, be springtime!

Filling the Hole

If you’ve ever studied art history, or visited a medieval cathedral or read Dante, you have come across the concept of gluttony being a sin.  A deadly sin, no less. 

In our own modern culture, gluttony is more a picture of the Good Life, enshrined as a standard for holidays like Mardi Gras, Thanksgiving and SuperBowl Sunday, when all good citizens eat until the buttons pop.

How did we make such a long leap, from capital sin to near-virtue?

I could make my case against profiteers, but that’s beside the point.  The only thing that really matters here is us, and how we can make better lives for ourselves. 

Most of us are carrying a lot of shame around overeating.  We may even do it in secret, late at night with no one around, and then go to some trouble to hide the evidence from our families.  We’re embarrassed, but we do it. 

I’ll bet every single one of us has been at the grocery store, seen someone we know down at the far end of the aisle, and done a quick sweep of our basket to see if there’s anything incriminating in there.  Maybe thrown a jacket over it, eh?   

We compare ourselves to magazine ads and movie celebrities, and come up so far short, it’s like they’re a whole different species. 

So what do we need with the idea of sin??  We’re already ashamed!

Here’s the great thing about sin: it has an answer.  

If all we ever are is ashamed, and we can’t pinpoint the source of our eating compulsions and we can’t get rid of them and try over and over again and nothing is working... that is a prescription for despair.  It all seems hopeless.

But if we think of sin as a force in the world that is eager for our destruction, we can easily see it as the enemy.  In my Christian worldview, it genuinely is the enemy; it is a personal power who would like to keep me from reaching joy in God, out of jealousy, perversity and spite. 

Whatever your world view, I think we can all agree that there are forces at work that pull us away from our highest good. 

Perhaps overeating is one effect of those forces. 

Overeating, first of all, chips away at our self-respect.  That may be its very worst harm.  We don’t go out into the world as much. Our capacity for doing good is handicapped because we’re not there; we’re hiding.  Our relationships are diluted because we don’t want anyone to know what’s deepest inside.  Shame is a powerful captor.

When overeating leads to overweight, then our health is at risk.  We deny ourselves the pleasure of activity, of moving freely in this beautiful world.  Our lives are narrowed by illness or incapacity, then shortened. 

Do you see why a good and loving God might not want that for his precious ones?

So we come back to sin, not in terms of a punishable crime, not one more thing to be ashamed of.  But sin as a danger signal, as a sweet and loving parent saying, “Don’t go there; you’ll get hurt.”

I think the root of overeating for many of us is the lack of love at some point in our lives when we badly needed it.  Someone failed us or wasn’t there, and the wound is still inside, crying to be filled up. 

As long as we keep ourselves to ourselves, not allowing Love to come in our secret doors, we continue to overeat.  No wonder; we’re trying to fill that hole!  It actually makes a whole lot of sense.  We’re behaving very understandably if there is no Love in the world that cares for our ultimate good.

Whatever your religious beliefs, somewhere in them is a loving power.

You have to follow your own path to that love.  Do something this week to more firmly connect with the power of Good.  Find a book or a prayer or perhaps a childhood memory of a time when you were connected to the source of love.  Stay there awhile and let yourself be loved. It's harder than it sounds. It may even sting. Stay with it. It will begin to fill in the hole. 

The Crucible

Tomorrow is it, the day I’ve been waiting for.  Tomorrow, I take my newly-carved feet out to the track for a running workout. 

Well, alright, I won’t be exactly running.  More like shuffling.  And I only get ten minutes on my feet.  But it’s a start.  It’s the open door back to the life I love.

I’m pretty excited!

I’ve been in this incubator for a long time now. 

It’s got me thinking about those periods that come to all of us, when we’re, for one reason or another, unable to live the life we want.  Grief, illness, injury, loss of a job or a friend.  Something is taken away and we’re startled to find ourselves living at half-mast.

I remember days in my surgery recovery, waking up in the morning, and groaning!  Every day was so much work; just getting bathed and dressed took most of my day’s allotment of energy.  And then I had to face another day of doing precisely none of the things that I am accustomed to doing.  (Yes, it was fun for a few days, but the luster wore off quickly.)

Brave friends tried to tell me that the universe had something to teach me, that I would look back on those days as “privileged.”  I didn’t bite any heads off, but I didn’t exactly believe them, either. 

Brave friends, you were right!  From the other side, I can see that it genuinely was a great privilege, one that most people never get (and wouldn't ask for): the experience of being stripped down.  When you can’t DO anything, you have to come to grips with your simple BEING. 

I don’t say that it’s comfortable, but it’s an experience I now see as priceless. 

Two great men who, in their ways, changed the world for the better were formed by periods of forced bedrest: Francis of Assisi and Ignatius of Loyola.  Both were military men, understanding themselves as men of action.  That was their self-identity, and self-identity is a painful thing to be stripped of, more painful than losing a foot or a leg. 

Everyone knows Francis and the legacy of love he left.  Ignatius became a deeply religious man, whose “spiritual exercises” have formed millions of people over the last 450 years.  The society that grew up around him, the Jesuits, gave the world a fine man we now know as Pope Francis. 

Both Francis of Assisi and Ignatius of Loyola were shaped in the crucible of injury or illness.  They entered the sickroom as soldiers; they emerged as something quite different. 

The “sickroom” is a good teacher.  It takes away so many of our props that we are forced to look at our hidden foundations. 

As grateful as I am for my period of recuperation, I don’t recommend surgery as a journey of spiritual awakening!  No, there is something less costly and closer to hand. 

It’s called Lent.  And it begins this Wednesday.

Lent is a deliberate submission to a stripping-down of your person.  We give up some pleasure or crutch in an offering that says, “I’m a little nervous that I  may not be able to function without this thing, but I'm open to possibilities.  I’m ready to be taught more about who I really am, though I may not like the answer entirely.  I'm willing to rely more on goodness and love, and less on myself.”

Some of you have been practicing Lent your whole lives; others may have stopped after childhood, and some may have never practiced it at all. 

I encourage you to think about it.  It can be a transformative experience.  It’s not really about giving up a particular “thing”; it’s more about simply giving up.  Giving yourself up to what God wants for you: richness, blessing, love.  Giving up the urge to control some small aspect of your life. 

I don’t know the significance of me getting my run back on Tuesday, the very eve of the season of self-denial.  Just as I’m preparing to enter 40 days of austerity, I’m receiving an extravagant gift.  It’s one more lesson in giving up control.  Our God of love knows better than I. 

I wish you all a wonderful Lent, whether it is your tradition or not.  Use this season of blessing.  Let Love in.