In this... it gave me the capacity to review my symptoms... particularly as hunger is the evasive ecstasy.... a feeling I have to enforce... as my 'abdominal cavity' feels pressured to not eat - I have to return the favor and pressure myself to eat...
I question now... what if my body is saying "I am already full" - full in some spirit, full in some aspect of fulfillment already... and the enforcement of 'packing in' - particularly out of fear of other symptoms (from not eating : weakness, fatigue, loss of body and muscle, brain-fog... already a frail body enticing more frailty...) ...
Of course... the body needs fuel to survive, and the fuel of the body in my body - turns turmoil over and over again within me...
Jacob, your questions are poignant and seem to rise up out of the body itself. You and I have spoken about the body speaking in metaphor. I read in your words you reading the poem. . . .
Renee, reading that you are reading The Way of the Pilgrim felt so right to me. I realized reading this that you are a pilgrim, leading the way for all of us and here at BTCZ you offer daily bread for sustenance for our souls. We are all travelling unknown terrain and I feel blessed to have you leading the way. This is a beautiful essay, thank you.
“To eat is to touch hunger and experience need; to receive what we need is to acknowledge that we need. To wander is to surrender to an unknown path and so, to relinquish control.” Gorgeous. Loving your gentle wisdom, my friend.
It seems that all practice is about focus, intent, mindfulness, presence. There are many names and many forms...saying the rosary, touching the tzittzit, centering on a mantra, a gatta. All of these practices are about stripping away the unessential and arriving at simplicity. Thank you.
Susie, thank you for offering this recognition about the many names for these ancient practices that wisdom traditions have long offered to steady and nourish us . . . paradoxically, by emptying us. Is there one you tend toward?
My goodness friend, your wisdom is so necessary in this world hungry ghosts. Do you read @jonathanfostersthecrow ? His latest Shoal of Red Herring is a must read, very much aligned with this essay of yours.
What a beautiful insight, the emptying, the ache, as natural as the emptying of our lungs before the next breath. Oh how our culture chooses to inhale inhale inhale, forgetting the rest and prayer of letting go.
I’d love to join your zoom gathering in Sept so please keep us posted.
Kimberly, thank you for introducing me to Jonathan Fosters' work. I will read Shoal of a Red Herring this evening and am glad to connect.
It delights me to imagine you joining the conversation in Sept, and I will definitely keep you posted.
"Oh how our culture chooses to inhale inhale inhale, forgetting the rest and prayer of letting go." Even the words themselves leave us breathless . . . and numb.
Thank you for this. As someone with a deep love for the monastic path, I find your thoughts resonating for me. We need more solitude, silence, and simplicity--though I definitely see the irony in combining "we need more" with "simplicity" in a sentence!
I laugh out loud at your comment about the irony of needing more of simplicity. And yet, what if(?) we come a little closer to these three--"more" monks *in* the world (monastics without monasteries). I find it quite fascinating that the Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers who paved the way for the monastic life took up these ways at a time of tremendous change in the human. . . .
It is wonderful to have companions on this path, Heather, and I always enjoy our connection.
Beautiful post Renée. It is ironic that running from emptiness and hunger only creates more of it. Even in appearance of abundance. I have found that both emptiness and hunger are necessities in order to receive. How can I accept something if my hand is closed? Openness is required. A certain "poverty" is needed, as you said, "the poverty of taste."
We live in/with such paradox, don't we? Your analogy of a closed or open hand is a perfect image and phenomenology: the mere act of opening the hand seems to relax the whole body; even imagining doing so relaxes the whole body.
Your recent loss is still on my mind. Sending warm wishes. . .
In this... it gave me the capacity to review my symptoms... particularly as hunger is the evasive ecstasy.... a feeling I have to enforce... as my 'abdominal cavity' feels pressured to not eat - I have to return the favor and pressure myself to eat...
I question now... what if my body is saying "I am already full" - full in some spirit, full in some aspect of fulfillment already... and the enforcement of 'packing in' - particularly out of fear of other symptoms (from not eating : weakness, fatigue, loss of body and muscle, brain-fog... already a frail body enticing more frailty...) ...
Of course... the body needs fuel to survive, and the fuel of the body in my body - turns turmoil over and over again within me...
your writing holds a turning stone...
Blessed Be
Jacob, your questions are poignant and seem to rise up out of the body itself. You and I have spoken about the body speaking in metaphor. I read in your words you reading the poem. . . .
We look obliquely.
Renee, reading that you are reading The Way of the Pilgrim felt so right to me. I realized reading this that you are a pilgrim, leading the way for all of us and here at BTCZ you offer daily bread for sustenance for our souls. We are all travelling unknown terrain and I feel blessed to have you leading the way. This is a beautiful essay, thank you.
Donna, your words touch me at the core. Thank you.
“To eat is to touch hunger and experience need; to receive what we need is to acknowledge that we need. To wander is to surrender to an unknown path and so, to relinquish control.” Gorgeous. Loving your gentle wisdom, my friend.
Holly, I am loving your presence here, dear friend. Thank you.
It seems that all practice is about focus, intent, mindfulness, presence. There are many names and many forms...saying the rosary, touching the tzittzit, centering on a mantra, a gatta. All of these practices are about stripping away the unessential and arriving at simplicity. Thank you.
Susie, thank you for offering this recognition about the many names for these ancient practices that wisdom traditions have long offered to steady and nourish us . . . paradoxically, by emptying us. Is there one you tend toward?
I’m partial to the Hebrew word zeh which means this.
Susie, thank you for sharing. And 'this' is that for which we have no name. It is a joy to connect with you here. Thank you.
My goodness friend, your wisdom is so necessary in this world hungry ghosts. Do you read @jonathanfostersthecrow ? His latest Shoal of Red Herring is a must read, very much aligned with this essay of yours.
What a beautiful insight, the emptying, the ache, as natural as the emptying of our lungs before the next breath. Oh how our culture chooses to inhale inhale inhale, forgetting the rest and prayer of letting go.
I’d love to join your zoom gathering in Sept so please keep us posted.
Kimberly, thank you for introducing me to Jonathan Fosters' work. I will read Shoal of a Red Herring this evening and am glad to connect.
It delights me to imagine you joining the conversation in Sept, and I will definitely keep you posted.
"Oh how our culture chooses to inhale inhale inhale, forgetting the rest and prayer of letting go." Even the words themselves leave us breathless . . . and numb.
Thank you for this. As someone with a deep love for the monastic path, I find your thoughts resonating for me. We need more solitude, silence, and simplicity--though I definitely see the irony in combining "we need more" with "simplicity" in a sentence!
Heather,
I laugh out loud at your comment about the irony of needing more of simplicity. And yet, what if(?) we come a little closer to these three--"more" monks *in* the world (monastics without monasteries). I find it quite fascinating that the Desert Fathers and Desert Mothers who paved the way for the monastic life took up these ways at a time of tremendous change in the human. . . .
It is wonderful to have companions on this path, Heather, and I always enjoy our connection.
Silence, solitude, simplicity. As in the way of the monk, pilgrims follow a similar path. We should all.
Michael, thank you for drawing this parallel here! Perhaps, each in our own way, we come closer. . . .
Beautiful post Renée. It is ironic that running from emptiness and hunger only creates more of it. Even in appearance of abundance. I have found that both emptiness and hunger are necessities in order to receive. How can I accept something if my hand is closed? Openness is required. A certain "poverty" is needed, as you said, "the poverty of taste."
Julie,
We live in/with such paradox, don't we? Your analogy of a closed or open hand is a perfect image and phenomenology: the mere act of opening the hand seems to relax the whole body; even imagining doing so relaxes the whole body.
Your recent loss is still on my mind. Sending warm wishes. . .
Thanks Renée!