Thursday, May 22, 2014

Worship

For so long I believed if I was looking in just the right place,
at just the right angle,
then perhaps I too could claim to have secret knowledge of the Mystery.

The Christians would say, "Oh, of course, God has these three aspects of Himself",
while Jews might wonder if Christians are working with some bad information.

Muslims pay respect to the person of Jesus as a prophet of God,
and yet claim another Prophet with a more relevant message entered the Divine narrative afterwards.

Indigenous Americans are able to see the face of the Divine in animals, plants, and sky spirits,
while Buddhists and Hindus instruct people to search for God within themselves.

Tantric yoginis and Amazonian shamans both sing songs of praise to the Great Mother,
and sometimes participate in ritualized ecstasy.

Yet a Sufi mystic believes to have a Lover's intimate knowledge of God.

But, alas, and thank God, Whomever God may be,
the possibility of my own unique arrogance continues to be revealed to me.

No matter how many spiritual paths I travel down,
I now am starting to believe
I will never find Absolute knowledge on much of anything.

Like the light rising at dawn upon a crew of lost and frightened travelers,
I am learning to let go of other peoples' ideas about things.

Embracing instead the unknowingness of each new and changing moment,
Absolute only in it's Mystery.

-- Whitney Logan

Wednesday, May 21, 2014

Letting Go

"When a relationship ends, use the pain and difficult feelings to deepen your practice... to see vividly the infinite depth of being in the intensity of your broken heart". -- Ken McLeod

You are God's Lover

“Soul, if you want to learn secrets,

your heart must forget about
shame
 and dignity.
You are God's lover,

yet you worry
what people
are saying.”

-- Rumi

Friday, March 21, 2014

On Human Life:

"It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a savage and beautiful country lies in between".  -- Diane Ackerman

True Love

This winter has been especially difficult for me. Maybe you can relate.

I feel in some ways that I have been dismantled by the difficulty of this season. In fact, I think I am probably writing from right inside the middle of the dismantling process, and not from on the other side of it just yet. 

Perhaps the dismantling is unrelated to winter, and more related to aging. Perhaps, as I commit myself to engaging more authentically in the reality of world I am living in, I am just more aware of the difficulty. Perhaps, prior to now, I was using the naivete of my own mostly satisfying young adult life to try to defend myself against the reality of unavoidable, un-fixable human heart-break. 

As a person devoted to learning how to be with people in their own experiences of heart-break, I look back now on my first few years practicing this art, and wonder if my clients ever felt abandoned or disappointed by my unconscious attitude that "things can and will get better with the right kind of hard work". Because lately, I have been learning the exact opposite lesson. The lesson that says, "even if you do everything right, tragedy can and may still find you". 

It can find you despite all your hyper-vigilance and preventive practices. It can come and find you while you're sound asleep inside the safety of your own spiritual or psychological resiliency. It can set up camp right in the center of your own human heart... making the safest, most authentic place for you to dwell, also the most excruciating place to try sit down and take stock.

So, for now, I feel like I am trying to locate myself again... trying to find my new perimeter, new center, and new dimensions. It's strange, and uncomfortable, and I keep hoping that it will still feel beautiful to be a part of the human family... instead of simply horrifying. 

Sometimes I am not sure, and that's probably one of the most honest things I've ever said in my whole life. 

And yet, still somehow, within me, there is this experience of Love. Even when I'm totally worn out, if I take a minute to land in my own heart space, I find it. Endlessly pulsing, seemingly tireless. Somehow, this remains. Over and over. Indestructible. Unbroken, seamless, cohesive. Unconvinced by my defensive numbing out strategies. Beyond my personal limitations, this is the force that remains. As if it's beyond, or outside of wounding altogether.

A miracle.

Consequently, my daily practice, if I am tender enough with myself to remember it, has become this: recognizing how any encounter with Love is a gift beyond all suffering. Or maybe a gift that can hold all suffering. Never erasing it, of course, but strong enough to be with it. 

For this, I am humbled, and I am thankful. 

Namaste,
Whitney

Sunday, January 12, 2014

No Form is Great Enough

I have learned
So much from God
That I can no longer
Call myself

A Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim,
a Buddhist, a Jew.

The Truth has shared so much of Itself
With me

That I can no longer call myself
A man, a woman, an angel,
Or even a pure Soul.

Love has
Befriended Hafiz so completely,
It has turned to ash
And freed me

Of every concept and image
my mind has ever known.

~ Hafiz

Monday, December 30, 2013

Inner Authority


"I have been and still am a seeker, but I have ceased to question stars and books; I have begun to listen to the teaching my blood whispers to me.”

-- Hermann Hesse

Monday, December 2, 2013

Soul Sanctuary.

.... One day when I don't live in this physical place anymore, I'll miss this spot in my living room the most. 



Because I have made this space sacred with my own intention, 
and then delighted myself by spending countless hours alone here. 

It's been right here that I've slowly learned how to listen to my whole Being most carefully. 

And from within that silent observation, I've discovered this new kind of intimacy:
Conversation with my own soul. 

Learning how to meet myself in this way feels like coming Home.

As if I could find a feeling of family reunion inside my own body.
Or rest inward towards my own exquisitely tender embrace.

I now wish everyone could find a way to get this close to themselves -- or hopefully, even closer.
Because I know there is even more than this too.


Namaste,
Whitney 

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Honoring Loneliness


Don't surrender your loneliness so quickly. 
Let it cut more deep. 

Let it ferment and season you as few human or even divine ingredients can. 

Something missing in my heart tonight
has made my eyes so soft, my voice so tender,

My need of God 
Absolutely 
Clear.

-Hafiz

Friday, November 1, 2013

What We Could See....

If I could meet myself again
as a tiny little girl,
with a wide-open and unobstructed consciousness,

I would tell her to close her eyes,
and go ahead,
and try to see what she could find deep within herself.

I would tell her to expect that it would be beautiful and wonderful ---
and only sometimes a little bit terrible,

and I would tell her about how even those terrible parts need to be honored and included in a careful way.

I know now that she would then be able to see
how the whole Universe was there -
with her
and
within her.

Always.


--Whitney Logan, 11.1.13

Tuesday, October 15, 2013

Majesty

My heart feels a strange ache whenever I catch a glimpse of the Universe reflecting on it's own Beauty.

Monday, September 30, 2013

God

I looked up into the sky yesterday.
And saw the Face of God.

That face was ever changing.
Every shape and being,
Terrible and wonderful.

I begged for forgiveness for trying to speak at all,
Yet could neither keep from singing or shouting
About the tender Mystery.

Every form is Yours, O Lord.

Today I borrow language from an ancient tradition, but only now know what it means.

The people who first wrote music to the Lord
Must have had a similar
Hidden audience with This glory.

To write at all of Love and Longing
Is like trying to describe a cry
For that which is most Holy.

-- Whitney Logan

Friday, September 27, 2013

Monday, September 23, 2013

Prayer

“Praying

It doesn’t have to be
the blue iris, it could be
weeds in a vacant lot, or a few
small stones; just
pay attention, then patch

a few words together and don’t try
to make them elaborate, this isn’t
a contest but the doorway

into thanks, and a silence in which
another voice may speak.”


― Mary OliverThirst

Sunday, September 8, 2013

Divine Conversation


I am so close, I may look distant.
So completely mixed with you, I may look separate.
So out in the open, I appear hidden.
So silent, because I am constantly talking with you.

-- Rumi

Saturday, August 10, 2013

Love

"Surrendering completely to love, be it human or divine, means giving up everything, including our own well-being or our ability to make decisions. The truth is that we don't want to be saved in the way God has chosen; we want to keep absolute control over our every step, to be fully conscious of our decisions, to be capable of choosing the object of our devotion.  But it isn't like that with love - it arrives, moves in, and starts directing everything.  Only very strong souls allow themselves to be swept along."

-- Paulo Coelho

Friday, August 2, 2013

Trees.

"For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. . . . Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one’s suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness."

-- Hermann Hesse

Thursday, August 1, 2013

Remembering what we already know.

I want to learn how to let Love move through me unobstructed.

Believing that particular Resource is Eternally and Infinitely available.

The Alpha, the Omega, the Beginning, and the End.

Dwelling right inside of me.

Perhaps then I could freely give That which I knew could never be exhausted.

Love.
Love.
Love.

Love.

My soul says, "It's True already, you know?"

And I can only respond, "I'm working on Remembering".


-- Whitney Logan

Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Creation According to Eve? (Humor me).

Somewhat paradoxically, my movement away an over-identification with church dogma began during a course on the Old Testament at a Baptist university in Texas. Like any good overview class should, we started with the creation narratives (there are two!) in the book for Genesis. To my utter amazement, the ordained Baptist minister that was teaching my class let us in on this little secret: one of the two creation stories suggests literarily (not literally, but literar(y)-ily) that Eve is the apex of creation! Essentially, the literary movement of the story tells us that God ordered "His" creations to be increasingly more complex throughout the course of those seven days; the cherry on top being woman (Eve).

That struck me as supremely confusing at the time, as I didn't know how to reconcile this with the rest of the things I'd been taught through my religious education so far. Consequently, it took years and years of letting that gem of knowledge marinate in my mind until it eventually collided with the teachings of other spiritual wisdom traditions for me to start making some new assumptions.

But, let's get back to the juicy tale here! If Eve is really the apex of creation, why then did God say all that nonsense about giving Adam a "helper" (insert mental image of woman in an apron without the right to vote) when he created her? Well, turns out: God called Eve a "helper" using the same language "He" also used to describe "Himself" in the role as "helper". The Hebrew phrase is "ezer kenegdo", and it is only used again throughout the rest of the whole Old Testament to describe the kind of help God offers to mankind.

Eve is starting to seem like less of a disappointment right now, huh? Well, it gets better. In light of this new information let's revisit that infamous "how Eve got tricked by the snake into ruining everything for the rest of us" Garden scene and examine a few of the other symbols we find there.  We can no longer necessarily assume that Eve is somehow dumber than Adam and consequently more likely to get "tricked" by such a wily snake like she's some sort of naive damsel in distress, right?

So, what's the deal with Eve and seemingly spineless exchange with the serpent then? Well, here's a fun fact: a serpent or snake in nearly every other ancient spiritual tradition is often considered a feminine symbol, as it (like a woman) has an intimate, embodied knowledge about the cycles of life, death, and re-birth through it's molting (skin-shedding) process. Menstruating women are also connected to this intimate knowledge of the cycles of life through the shedding of their uterine (endometrial) lining, which is how the two creatures got linked to one another. So curious!

Now if we decide to take a little risk and consider that neither the serpent nor Eve are all bad, what are we to make of this whole business of eating the fruit from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil (despite being told not to quite emphatically!)? On a symbolic level, eating from that tree in particular sorta sounds to me like a kind of initiation into a new type of moral consciousness. The kind of consciousness that can separate or distinguish "good" from "bad". I imagine that developmental psychologists might suggest an interesting parallel between the timing of typical menstruation and the various stages of moral development.

But let's leave that aside for a moment, and notice that whatever exciting symbolism may be there, we still need to deal with this business of getting kicked out of the "Garden" after being initiated into "knowing what's up" re: good and evil. Is it just because they broke the rules? And what do we make of the snake's seductive little statement to Eve about how eating the fruit would make her "like God"?

First, let's maybe ask ourselves how it is that knowledge of "Good and Evil" makes a person like God? I have a friend that suggested to me that perhaps knowing about "Good and Evil" is the only way we can really examine our choices and know ourselves. Essentially, consciousness of ourselves is possible when we are able to understand the relationship between "Good and Evil", and then recognize our own power to make informed choices.

Second, let's reflect on why we understand this resulting banishment from the Garden as such a devastating fate for our spiritual ancestors. What is so compelling about the Garden that this makes us feel so convinced that this was an excruciating experience of loss? The symbol of the Garden itself suggests fertility, new life, the womb, the lap of the Mother, the place of fusion with Caregivers, and innocence about our own Responsibility in the world. I imagine that the last time we all felt that kind of unconscious union was probably right before we became conscious of our "separateness" from "mother".

Regardless of whether or not we are projecting our own sense of loss onto their exile, we seem to be able to deeply relate to this anguish and shame that Adam and Eve experience. We think we know that this is a very terrible moment when Adam and Eve begin to feel their "separateness" from God and each other, and try to hide themselves out of shame. They are able to recognize their nakedness (vulnerability) for the first time, seem to have a negative judgment about this, and are consequently alienated from the blissful privilege of unconsciousness that the Garden had allowed them to enjoy up until then.

Yet, this same story also says that God made man and woman in "His" own image, and that "He" saw that this was very good. If we're going to consider everything else literar-ily, we might start to wonder if this story is not just the perfect set up for the most epic Redemption tale of all time.  A real prelude of sorts for what was would happen next (i.e. Jesus Christ: the personification of this Life, Death, And Re-Birth phenomena that seems to make the world go round).

And why did we need Jesus to do this for us? Drumroll, please: I'm inclined to think that it was so that we could have the courage to Remember that the Garden is within us! Jesus' big message was all, "hey guys, you don't need religious folks in fancy robes to stand between you and the Divine in order to mediate that relationship anymore". Maybe some people took him seriously, but mostly, it seems to me that the religious culture in the West has literalized their way right back in the same legalistic "Oh no, we've been kicked out of the Garden and are so ashamed, so let's come up with a bunch of rules and rituals that will help alleviate our guilt and anxiety" system that Jesus made a point to criticize thousands of years ago. I don't like speaking for Jesus, and so I won't. But I personally like to assume that he would be pretty disappointed by the current state of things too.

Speaking of Jesus, rumor has it that he was trying to bring Good News to people! I believe - passionately - that his "Good News" was a message about we can know that place of union (Garden) with God inside of ourselves!  For real.

AND SO IN CONCLUSION(ish), and because I think it's worth considering, I'm boldly saying, "hey people, these stories might be telling us that the Gospel truth sounds like this: turns out, we can choose (in any moment) to leave or return or leave and return again to this place of union with the Divine". Connection, Separation, Re-connection. Life, Death, Re-birth. The trees do it. Our cells do it. Snakes do it. The seasons too. The human heart beat reminds us of this rhythm: contraction, expansion, contraction. Perhaps the sound of the Universe is echoing in our own chests for a reason.

And we get to be conscious of it! What a gift.

This gift of consciousness given from God to the snake, and then from the snake to Eve, and Eve to Adam - might be the kind of gift that empowers us with the exquisite creativity - and very real responsibility - that makes us "like God" in some important way. We too can choose how to use this gift of consciousness: creatively or destructively (for Good or for Evil, so to speak).

As a being that could offer Adam the kind of "help" that God offers to mankind, we might even want to conclude that Eve had good motives for sharing that fruit with him after she had tasted it herself. I think I love her for her conscious courage.

**And by the way, any good parent (Divine or otherwise) knows that if you want to be sure to get your kids to eat something strange and unfamiliar you should try telling them something like "eat anything you want.... except for this one special thing... that's only for grown-ups, which I've willingly placed here unlocked and unguarded".

Nice trick, God.
 
And thank you.... for trusting us enough to let us become conscious of the Mystery.

The initiation was brutal, but the reward is so sweet.