Mapping a Life: Greed or Gratitude? PART 2

It’s easy to say, "gratitude matters." but without a regular practice of gratitude, I believe we’ll drift back toward greed. So, in that spirit, I offer two practices of gratitude, that I use in my own life:

1) Keep a daily gratitude journal. Maybe this might sounds ridiculous, but try it. Each day, in your journal, or Word document, or wherever, lift up three things out of the landscape of your life that you are thankful for. Three things – people, experiences, music, food.

Here’s how this works in my life: I regularly journal and pray early in the morning. I begin with this line from e.e. cummings: “I think you god for the most this amazing day…” And then I prayerfully list what I am thankful for:

“I thank you god for my family.

For the people I serve.

For bringing me to this moment, despite hardship and heartbreak.  

This practice changes me. And I’ll tell you, giving thanks doesn’t deny the hard moments, the loss, the grief, the despair we feel. Gratitude does not mean we ignore those things.

In fact, the Reverend Peter Gomes, former minister of Harvard’s Memorial Chapel, during a Thanksgiving Sermon, encouraged his congregation to,

 "think of your worst moments, your sorrows, your losses, your sadness and then remember that you are here, able to remember them...you got through the worst day of your life...you got through the trauma, the trial, you survived the bad relationship, you're making your way out of the darkness...remember these things...then look to see where you are."

And if you are in a dark, troubled place right now, know – beyond your rational mind - that you won’t remain there forever.  

               

The first practice is to keep a gratitude journal. If you’re not into journaling, write some thank you notes on a regular basis. Surely there are people in your life who deserve your thanks.

2) Make it a practice to tell a spouse, partner or friend something you appreciate about them every day. Author Arlie Hochschild writes, "When couples struggle, it is seldom over who does what. Far more often, it is over the giving and receiving of gratitude.  The struggle in the contemporary context is the struggle to cultivate gratitude between any two committed partners."

Dr. John Gottman, a national known relationship counselor, says that he can predict, often after only three minutes of observation, which marriages/partnerships are likely to flourish and which are likely to flounder.

The basic formula is that for every negative expression (a complaint, or a put-down, or getting angry with one another) there needs to be about five positive ones (smiles, compliments, laughter, expressions of appreciation and gratitude). 5 to 1 is the ratio, he says.

So this practice is about opening your heart to your partner, and truly paying attention. What are the ways, large and small, that you appreciate your partner, or friends? Have you told them? Are you being stingy with your praise?

Gratitude won’t fix everything in a relationship – I’m not saying that – but it will change the landscape of your relationship.

Here’s the bottom line: “Practicing gratitude" is not one more thing to check off your to-do list. It's not an obligation or a burden to praise, to give thanks. Rather, it is an overflowing of Love, of the heart remembering and acknowledging the web of life we are in, that we had nothing to do with, yet sustains and nourishes us, nonetheless.        

Mapping a Life: Greed or Gratitude?

A few thoughts on greed...

Greed is almost impossible to see in ourselves, right?  No looks in the mirror, and says, “You Greedy Jerk..I see you there!”

It’s easy to look at Bernie Madoff, or the top Executives at Enron, or the Bankers and CEOs on Wallstreet, or any number of other people and businesses, and shake a finger and tsk-tsk disapprovingly, and say, “Those greedy people…in this greedy system.”

Greed is nearly impossible to see in ourselves, isn’t it? I mean, who among us would say, “Yup, I’m greedy! And it’s causing me problems!” Probably not to many of us.

And yet, I’m surprised by how often I find myself saying, almost unconsciously, “I deserve this; the world owes me; other people owe me; what I have is not quite enough, quite yet, I deserve just a little bit more…More attention, more money, more things...more.”  

Greed is an insidious, dangerous condition of the heart – and it’s about more than money.

Here’s what I mean: perhaps in our work lives, or relationships, or marriages, we just “feed” ourselves, slowly starving our partners or colleagues or children of the things they need. We hold tight, being stingy with praise, kindness, attention, love, even money. 

Maybe you’re thinking, “I don’t hold tight, that’s not me,” and that may be true, but remember that greed is almost impossible to see in ourselves.

And yet, from the bird’s eye view (God’s view, if you will), it is clear that collectively, greed is rampant.

As the poet, George Ella Lyon, says in her poem:

God is fed up
All the oceans she gave us
All the fields
All the acres of steep seedful forests
And we did what?
         Invented the Great Chain
            of Being and
            the chain saw
         Invented sin
God says,
I've had it…
 
I set you down
a miracle among miracles
You want more
It's your turn
You show me.

Show what? Show how?

We might start by showing some humility. We might remember that we didn’t make the world, this day, our lives, the soil, the trees, or the oceans. We didn’t make the birds, or the moon and stars.

When I worked at All Souls Unitarian Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma, we began each service with these modified words from the 118^th Psalm:

This is indeed a day which God has made.
Let us, then, rejoice and be glad in it.
And let us count our many blessings.
Let us be grateful for the capacity to see, feel, hear, and understand.
Let us be grateful for the incredible gift of life.
And, let us be especially grateful for the ties of love which bind us together, giving dignity, meaning, worth, and joy to all our days.

For a long time, that line, “This is indeed a day which God has made!” made me cranky and bothered me.  Sure, I loved the stuff about counting blessings and gratefulness, but I didn’t even really believe in God, or that “God” created the day.

But week after week we said those words together. Slowly, something in me changed. I began to understand that “God” was something that kept my ego in check and grounded me. I realized that no matter what I thought about “God,” the truth was that I definitely did not make the day. I did not make the earth. I did not make the coffee bean, or the oats, or the egg that nourished me.

Something greater than me, had done these things, and had allowed life and the new day to emerge. The day was a gift. My body, my breath - a gift. All that I had, a loan from Life itself.

And the truth, is that the God and the world don't owe us anything: not the high speed internet that works 24/7, or corner offices, or drivers who always signal properly, or a partner that can read our mind, or meet our every need, or anything else.

“I set you down

a miracle among miracles

You want more

It's your turn

You show me.”

Show what?

Gratitude. 

We owe the world and its abundant miracles - fiery sunsets, northern lights, laughing children, honey crisp apples, the fact that we’re here at all - our gratitude, our praise.

Instead of always reaching for something more, for feeling we never have enough, the Spirit Map invites us to try saying, "Thank you," and living with a bit more humility at the center of our lives. 

P.S. For more good thoughts on this topic, check out Heidi Mastrud's blog, "Not Hell, But Hope."

More on Maps: What's Your Internal Landscape Look Like?

I just read this piece, "What Does Your Spiritual Geography Look Like?" by Carol Howard Merritt, over at Christian Century. The full article is worth a read. It'll take 5 minutes. Do it, and then come back!

I've been thinking about maps and landscapes lately and this section caught my attention:

Fall surrounds us, reminding me of all the transitions happening within me. Just as I’ve come to appreciate how seasons transform the land, I’ve also become aware of my internal landscape. The two seem bound together in many ways.

When I see those bare limbs, I think of the times when my work turns inward. We all have periods of fruitfulness and other months when we can hardly create. My father died a few months ago, and I noticed a lot of those empty days in the wake of his passing. I looked back on the hours, wondering what I actually accomplished.

But driving through Pennsylvania, I’m reminded that I should have appreciated the internal work. In our culture, we relentlessly measure productivity, but we don’t allow space for those seasons when hidden roots grow deeper. We don’t always trust those times when the limbs remain desolate. I didn’t honor the days of beautiful stillness enough.

This line, especially, sticks with me: "In our culture, we relentlessly measure productivity, but we don't allow space for those seasons when hidden roots grow deeper." 

I've been thinking about this in terms of "expansive time," time when there is no pressing issue, no huge "to do lists," no calls to return, no things to produce. I long for more "expansive time," flow time, time to let my heart and spirit settle, time to hear the whisper of the Holy, time to just be in the world, time for roots to grow deep...time to process, integrate and make sense of grief and loss and change.

My spiritual director (as well as another good colleague), invited me to take five minutes out of every hour in the day (or at least some of those hours!), to step into "expansive time," to settle into my internal landscape, to take some deep breaths. And in that time, to reflect on where the Holy, or joy, or meaning, have shown up in the past hour. To take note of those things, to hold them intentionally. And to be honest if the Holy, or joy, or meaning haven't showed up...and how I might invite them to show up in the next hour.

It's a hard practice to engage in - I like to be productive, after all! - but it's beginning to change the landscape of my day and of my heart. It slows me down and invites me to consider a whole other world, right there in front of me, inside of me.  

Mapping a Life: Love, or Fear?

(Note: for some context for this post, please check out previous post about Mapping a Life.)

"Love takes off the mask that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within.”   - James Baldwin

In the consumer culture map, fear plays a big role in our lives, doesn’t it?

Maybe we’re afraid of our bodies, their smell, how they look. Or we’re afraid we’re not enough, don’t have it all together, don’t have the right things, or the right job.

Or on a deeper level, maybe we’re afraid of how close we feel to falling apart – because of health issues, financial stress, parenting, our house being foreclosed on, losing a job, or our marriage coming undone.

Maybe we’re afraid we’re on the edge of losing it. And yet, we’ve got to keep pretending things are fine.

Let me say this another way: perhaps we’re afraid of truly confronting the pain in our lives.

And the fear of confronting that pain might mean we turn to the bottle, to pills, or the internet, or something else, so we can numb out, tune out, keep the pain at bay.

As the Rev. Forest Church says, “We find so many ways to armor and protect ourselves…”

And as I’ve been thinking about this, here’s what I’m realizing: fear – from the consumer culture map - makes us put on a false show of strength, of pretending to have it all together.

You know how this looks:

Q: “Are you ok?”

A: “I’m fine.”

A: “I don’t need help.”

A: “I don’t want to talk about it.”

And of course, nothing could be further from the truth. Beneath that mask of strength, of being “fine,” is grief, pain and heartbreak.  

And here’s what I think the crux of the issue is: In the consumer culture map, we have been taught to be afraid of our feelings and our pain.

As the Rev. Forest Church reminds us, “Every time we express ourselves, emotionally, we lose some control.”

Beyond being afraid of our feelings, the consumer culture map tells us that the thing to be most afraid of is to lose control of our emotions, to be vulnerable, to appear weak.

This is particularly brutal for men in our culture, but it impacts all of us. Essentially, we’re instructed to be afraid of ourselves, of our feelings, of our own deepest truths.

Fear then, tells us to hide our hearts. This, as you might imagine, is not a life giving practice!

And this is where love comes in.

Love calls our hearts out of hiding. Love invites us into vulnerability, authenticity and honesty.

This feels risky, even terrifying.    

As the Rev. Forest Church says, “We sense the risk… every time we share ourselves with another, every time we commit ourselves to a cause or to a task that awaits our doing…

We risk disappointment, failure, or being embarrassed or inadequate…”

But love calls us to take that risk; love invites our hearts out of the dark closet they’ve been hiding in. And paradoxically, real strength comes from risk taking, from vulnerability.

And in a faith community, we can collectively begin to orient ourselves on a new map, and take risks to live from a place called love.

The consumer culture map says, “Be afraid, bunker down, pretend things are just fine,” but when we look around and see our homeless neighbors, or bullied GLBT youth, or veterans coming home and struggling with addiction and suicide, or reflect on the pain in our own lives, we can see that things aren’t ok.

With courage, we can name these realities, and “speak the truth in love.”

Fear says, “Dress right, talk right, have the right things, have the right job, and keep it all together – keep the mask on – this will keep you safe and strong.”

Love says, “Nope, not true.” Love reminds us that we’re not asked to be perfect, or have our stuff together. We’re only asked to take off our mask, to be who we are, to see our fellow human beings as the incredible miracles they are, to see their struggles and desires as our own, and to see them as brothers and sisters.

Love, as author John O’Donahue says, invites us to “waste our heart on fear no more.”

May it be so.  

Mapping a Life: Hospitality, or Exclusivity?

Who’s in? Who’s out?

Who’s welcomed, who’s not?

Who’s acknowledged and seen? Who’s not?

Hospitality insists that people are not objects or “its.” They are not means to an end. 

Hospitality insists that people are living miracles, children of God, the face of God, if you will. Hospitality is about loving and welcoming the stranger, those different from us.

Hospitality, as opposed to exclusivity, is about a kind of kinship, an authentic, holy engagement with another. It is about casting the circle of welcome and love wider and wider still.

                 

I spoke with a church member earlier this week, and he told me it was his personal practice to connect with folks “who looked lost” in the coffee hour after the service.

He greets them, talks with them, and introduces them to others.

He described the sense of relief they seem to feel, as someone notices, pays attention, and engaging them.

As author Rachel Naomi Remen says, “The places in which we are seen and heard are holy places. They…remind us of our value as human beings.”

Wherever hospitality is practiced is a holy place.

                

And hospitality’s baseline is simply: “Welcome, you belong, you are a child of the Universe, of God.” As Greg Boyle, a Jesuit Priest says, “Our common human hospitality longs to find room for those who are left out. It’s just who we are if allowed to foster something different, something more greatly resembling what God (Love) had in mind.”

That sentiment points us to the Spirit Map, where our natural desire to reach out, to connect with others, to reach out to those who are left out, can blossom!   

Wherever hospitality is practiced is a holy place.

What sacred places are you creating? What new map are you trying to life into?

Mapping a Life, or "What Values Orient You in the World?"

(Note: for the full context of this post, you might want to check out this earlier post. Thanks!)

This past Sunday, this song was our reading for the day, our "sacred text:"

                

That line,“How could it come to this? I really want to know about this…” just grabs me.

That’s my heart’s question.        

I really want to know, how can it be that 1 in 7 children in Minnesota live in poverty and go to bed hungry? How can it be that their life is shaped by that devastating reality? These are children just like our son. Just like your children. And perhaps they are your children. How has it come to this?

Imagine having to choose between paying your utilities bill or buying groceries? Maybe you don’t have to imagine…maybe that’s your life. How has it come to be that across this country, there are 46 million people living below the poverty line? That’s a family of four making less than $22,000 a year. These are our brothers and sisters, uncles, grandparents, friends, our neighbors – it’s us.

How has it come to this? 

How has our moral compass gotten so twisted? Our political system so shaped by moneyed interests? Our politicians posturing and playing games, as people suffer? Can’t we do better?

I really want to know about this.

I trust I’m not alone with these question.

Maybe on a personal level you’re asking, ”How did it come to this?” Maybe there’s a deep sense of unhappiness about your life, or marriage, or something else. Or perhaps you’re longing for more purpose and meaning in your life. Perhaps you’re thinking, “How could it come to this? This sure isn’t what I imagined my life would be like.”

               

Or maybe, like me, you’re thinking about the country and the world. Maybe you’re wondering, how did we get into these wars in Iraq and Afghanistan again? Tell me about the $3 billion we spend a week in these wars; what that money might do in North Minneapolis or New Orleans or anywhere else…what that money might do for our children?

Maybe you’re thinking, “Tell me how we decided it was ok to trash the planet, to mine, pollute, exploit it? When did profit become more important than people and our planet?"

If our eyes and hearts are truly open to what is happening around us, surely a part of us must be asking: “How could it come to this?”

               

The good news is that this is not a new question. It seems to me that sacred scriptures all deal with some variation on this question, and the simple answer to "how could it come to this?" is that we’ve been using the wrong map to guide our lives and decisions.

We’ve been using the “popular culture” or “consumer culture” map instead of the spirit map, the faith map, Love’s map, God’s map – call it what you will.  

In popular consumer culture map, the core values we are given to guide our lives are these:

exclusivity,

fear,

ego-gratification,

guilt,

and greed.

(We’ll be unpacking these values in the next four weeks in our Sunday worship…and looking at “spirit map” alternatives to these popular culture values, which are: hospitality, love, compassion, forgiveness, and gratitude.)

The trouble, of course, is that these "consumer culture" values lead us to ask the wrong kinds of questions. As the Rev. Jim Wallis says, “Television, magazines, and our whole popular culture, in ad after ad, have asked us, “What’s the fastest way to make money? What do you need to buy next that will make you truly happy? What is wrong with you, and how could you change that?" What do you need to be afraid of? These questions do not speak to the deep yearnings of the human heart, nor do they help us become better people.  

But that’s the map we’re living in, right now, in what I would call an “apocalyptic moment.” Yes, an “Apocalyptic movement!” (The root of the word “apocalypse” means to unveil or reveal what has been hidden. And we are living in an apocalyptic time right now because what is being revealed is the popular consumer culture map – with exclusivity, fear, ego-gratification, guilt, and greed as its core values - that has lead us astray.

And I believe that our brothers and sisters in this growing “Occupy” movement are essentially saying, “As a country – we’ve been living and operating from the wrong map, and it’s not working. We need a new map.” 

That’s what this Occupy Movement is about. It’s not dirty hippies lounging around – it’s people of faith, families, students, and so many others, who are saying, "It’s time to use a different map with a different set of values and principles." 

And they’re bearing witness to that.

 

And for the next four weeks at First Universalist, we’ll be exploring the Spirit Map and how we might live more fully in that map. 

To be continued in another post...this one is plenty long!