Where does inspiration lie? Everywhere!

This is my attempt to pounce on and then shape the words I breathe.

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Tuesday, January 6, 2015

Is resistance a special kind of call?


"Not Resisting Resistance"
 --by Peter Russell (Dec 29, 2014) 


What an amazing reading!  It suggests we become interested in feelings we resist, and focus on the resistance and its causes. Instead of dividing experience when we would rather be worshipping or meditating, we could notice and combine them to enrich the time.   Something like that. Please read it.  The link also has an audio option.

The following is not a summery but my first reaction and associations: 

In grad school, I could only read and write in the busiest cafes.  Berkeley, California was riddled with them, so days and nights flew by with maximum productivity. 

I haven’t been able to achieve the same bubble in non-ideal meditation/worship situations. I resist the unexpected. I let my annoyance at noise ruin the worship time set aside for waiting on God.

Funny how the noisy heated conversations in the cafes did not feel like intrusions.  I knew they were there like a wall of protection, something to lean on while I focused.  And the noise was intellectual as was my task, so there may have been a scaffolding effect.

Perhaps this is the key to the present:  Perhaps the noise is spirit as well—not mine, not welcome—but disinterested enough to be a margin of safety.  I could notice it, notice my annoyance and resistance, and then let the latter blend into the former as a benign safety barrier, something I know well and could accept and make room for.

And what if the “noise” isn’t audible but psychic—like the past rising up to impose itself on the present or anger and other draining emotions?  Couldn’t my spirit benefit from acknowledging them and their inevitability, but then move on? 

In my imperfect practice of the body work known as Alexander Technique, noticing what is happening in each body part actually eases unwanted tension.  I need not do anything else but notice.

The child I was and the child in me has always desired to be seen—not dwelled upon.  Maybe all of these intrusions of  “noise” is inner life calling “Look at me! Look at me.” Looking calmly and seeing will calm the child and make the playing field accessible again.


You’re calling, my dear child.
I am right here, I hear you cry.
I see what you need me to see.
You're not alone anymore.
When you lean on me, I lean, too,
and your presence comforts
beyond anything we do.



Copyright © 2015 S.L.Chast


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