Sabbath for Ourselves and the Planet

I just finished reading an article by Michael Pollan called "Why Bother?", recently published in the New York Times Magazine. Pollan is the author of the bestsellers "The Omnivore's Dilemma" and “In Defense of Food: An Eater’s Manifesto," and has become a contemporary environmental and food guru of sorts. In this article, he talks about how growing our own food, even a small percentage of it, is one powerful step we can take toward reducing our carbon footprint. And Pollan, along with many environmentalists, have been raising our awareness about the importance of buying local foods.

In the article, Pollan suggests a few things that we can do to respond to climate change. In addition to growing our own food, he stresses the importance of observing the Sabbath. "For one day a week, abstain completely from economic activity: no shopping, no driving, no electronics," he writes.

Now, I have always thought that taking a weekly Sabbath is a good thing for the soul. It's a time to replenish ourselves, to reconnect with Spirit without being pulled in all different directions by worldly distractions. I have been trying to work regular Sabbath/retreat time into my life (and admittedly have found frequent excuses to blow it off). But, I never viewed Sabbath as a response to climate change. I suppose it's been an afterthought, a side benefit--"oh yeah, I didn't drive or use the computer today, so I guess I saved some fossil fuel"--but I've never really seen it as a committment toward living more sustainably. Certainly it fosters spiritual sustainability, as the relentless speed of our lives is clearly unsustainable on a personal, emotional, and spiritual level. Slowing down and turning off the technology also helps build community. Instead of staring at the screen and shooting off emails, we enjoy face-to-face time with our neighbors and family.

Leonard Felder, in his book The Ten Challenges, offers us an alternative and refreshing way of viewing Sabbath. He says:

Imagine for a moment that someone who cares about you has sent you a gift certificate for a day that is to be devoted entirely to the needs of your soul. On that day you don't have to work. You can take a walk and have a relaxing conver­sation with friends or loved ones about the things that really matter. You can meditate, pray, and read the books that speak to your soul. You can nap and let your mind take a rest, or dance and sing to let your spirit soar. For one day, you can stop trying to prove yourself out in the world. You can look at your life as a blessing and feel at peace with where you are right now. Instead of feeling fragmented and pressured, you can spend the day in a generous, positive, and contemplative mood.

Well, Felder tells us that this gift certificate has been given to all of us, with the Fourth Commandment, which says: Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days shall you labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a Sabbath to the Lord your God.

Now, instead of viewing this as a commandment, as a "Thou Shalt" or a "Thou Shalt Not," we can reclaim the notion of Sabbath to be an invitation to heal, replenish, and renew ourselves. Instead of the word "commandment," Felder suggests using the word "challenge." Thus, he reframes the Fourth Commandment as a challenge to "unhook from our everyday pressures and connect with something profoundly joyful.”

I recommend reading Wayne Muller's book Sabbath: Restoring the Sacred Rhythm of Rest as a great inspiration for making room in our lives for Sabbath. Muller says that taking Sabbath time is like thinning our garden. When the sprouts come up all crowded together, we need to thin them out in order to give them room to grow and flourish. This is obvious in our gardens, but why are we so resistent to thinning out our lives and making some space for growth, space for life, space for Spirit?

I envision a healthier culture in which we can collectively take time for Sabbath, a time of replenishment not stifled by religious legalism and dogma, but rather one of spaciousness and joy. We can allow for individual creativity and interpretation in its observance. It doesn't even need to be on the same day, or even on a weekend (I often take my Sabbath on Mondays, as many ministers do). Taking Sabbath time is something we can do to heal and restore ourselves, and, as I now realize, benefits the planet as well.

There were times when I could not afford to sacrifice the bloom of the present moment to any work, whether of the head or hands... Sometimes, in a summer morning, having taken my accustomed bath, I sat in my sunny doorway from sunrise till noon, rapt in a revery, amidst the pines and hickories and sumachs, in undisturbed solitude and stillness, while the birds sing around or flitted noiseless through the house, until by the sun falling in at my west window, or the noise of some traveller's wagon on the distant highway, I was reminded of the lapse of time. I grew in those seasons like corn in the night, and they were far better than any work of the hands would have been. They were not time subtracted from my life, but so much over and above my usual allowance.

~Henry David Thoreau

Amazing Grace

Last night I led devotional chanting at a spiritual community in a nearby city. There were about twenty or so people there, really grooving on singing love songs to Spirit in many languages and from many faiths. I felt like I was splashing in a fountain of joy as the sound of the voices and an array of instruments filled the space.

What the group may not have realized, as we were enjoying a couple of hours of bliss together, was that during the hour-long drive in the car on the way there, I had been complaining to my husband non-stop about all the things that I thought were wrong with my life--what wasn't going well, who and what were the sources of my disappointment (as if disappointment is caused by something external), and so on. I will spare you the gory details. Let it suffice to say that I had a real self-pity fest for about sixty miles. Doug was great at giving me empathy, and suggesting new ways to look at areas where I felt stuck. But I was resistant-- I really wanted to wallow in it and milk it for all it was worth, while I had him captive in the car.

And then, we had a job to do, so out of necessity I had to dip into the reservoir of love that was inside me and become that. It's amazing how we can do that when we are called to do so.

During the singing I noticed one woman who seemed to have a glow about her. I'll call her "K." She had a radiant smile, infectious enthusiasm, and a sense of deep peace that emanated from her. I was drawn to her energy and went up to speak with her afterward. One thing that is very interesting about K is that she is blind and deaf. She explained to me that she had gone blind at an early age (in one eye due to a doctor's mistake as a result of a botched laser surgery procedure, and a few years later in the other eye due to a degenerative condition). Then, one day she woke up and suddenly found herself deaf. It had happened overnight. She now has limited hearing only in one ear with the help of a cochlear implant. In order for her to hear, others need to speak into a transmitter that relays the signal to her ear.

K also told me that, after she lost her sight and her hearing, she was seriously injured in an automobile accident and almost died. It took her years to recover from the physical injuries she sustained.

Despite her challenges, K works as a massage therapist. Her sense of touch is not impaired in the least, and I got the sense that she is a skilled and sensitive bodyworker. She also is an athlete.

What is amazing to me is that despite her physical challenges, she is completely upbeat and positive. She talks about her condition with absolutely no hint of resentment or self-pity in her voice. Now, if anyone were to have a chronically negative outlook on life, I would think that someone with such "heavy karma" would have a lot to complain about. There is much to potentially wallow in there. But K was more positive, alive, and energetically clear than most "normal" people I know.

This was one of those slap-in-the-face experiences that totally burst my "poor me" bubble. Poof! Gone! I saw all the things that I had been kvetching about in the car just dissolve in the light of this woman's spiritual presence.

I am in a completely different space today. Often we never know how we touch others, how simply our presence and loving hearts can be deeply inspiring and healing to another person. Perhaps K will never know the impact she had on me last night. My experience with her is not one I am likely to forget. and perhaps next time I get sunk in a snarly emotional place, her image will come back to me as a reminder of what the human heart/spirit is capable of, no matter what happens in our lives. Truly Amazing Grace.

I would love to hear from others about people who have inspired you in the same way, and about unexpected meetings with people who have shifted your perspective.

Everything has its wonders, even darkness and silence, and I learn whatever state I am in, therin to be content. ~Helen Keller

Under the Cherry Tree

Well, I started this blog and then left for the Southwest for two weeks, so I'm just getting back to writing. My husband, Doug, and I were traveling throughout Arizona and New Mexico. We took in some of the “greatest hits” of the natural world, hiking in the Grand Canyon and on the beautiful trails of Sedona, and we also enjoyed the richness of the art and culture of Santa Fe. It was also an interfaith pilgrimage of sorts, as we visited some spiritual centers of various faiths. We stayed overnight at the Neem Karoli Baba Ashram in Taos, where they have a Hanuman Temple (honoring the Hindu monkey god), and we visited the Upaya Zen Center in Santa Fe. We toured a Native American Pueblo near Taos, and visited the Santuario de Chimayo, where 300,000 Catholics make pilgrimages each year, often on foot, to experience what is believed to be the miraculous healing powers contained within the soil there. We collected some of the dry, red dirt, which we will use for a healing ritual at Common Heart.

When we were at the Upaya Zen Center, we were fortunate to attend a dharma talk by Roshi Joan Halifax, the founder of the Center. She spoke of how she had just come back from a trip to China and Japan. In Japan the cherry trees were just blooming, and there were groups of people everywhere celebrating the blossoming by sitting under the trees getting completely drunk. And she noted how that was a really “interesting” way to respond to the awakening of spring. Why celebrate with numbing out, with doing something that makes us unconscious?

Roshi Joan went on to suggest that we can choose to respond in a different way. We can choose to pay exquisite close attention to what is going on around us. We can be completely present while enjoying the blossoming. “Our lives are so short,” she said. “Why not be fully awake? Why not live like a Buddha?” And for some of us the Buddha may be Christ, or Mohammed, or some other being who inspires us, who call us to be awake, to be courageous, to embody Love.

And this being awake includes all of life—we can be awake to the beauty and the miraculous cycles of nature, and also to the pain and suffering that humans experience. The Dalai Lama, in response to the current crisis in Tibet, has said “My heart is breaking, and I still sleep at night.”

Can we let our hearts break, and still sleep at night? The words of the Dalai Lama remind us that there is a way to open to the suffering and heartbreak of the world, and still rest in the deep peace of God (or, our true nature, as another way of framing it).

So, friends, may you take in the beauty of the blossoming with full awareness, AND be willing to let your heart break for what is going on in Tibet, in Iraq, in Darfur, or perhaps in your own life. May you be present to all of it, and may you sleep in peace each night.