MysticBliss: Merton's Serene Carelessnes

Our very first apple on our two year
old dwarf heirloom tree.

Listening to: Reminiscent of a Rumi type poem, this is some of my Frog's favorite music.

Today's Bliss Formula: A most perfect weather day. Not too hot. Blue. And the neighborhood is Sunday-quiet. A weeding and reading day.

I am reading A Book of Hours edited by Kathleen Deignan. She has scoured the writings of Thomas Merton and collected poetry and prose to create a beautiful daily prayer book. Her writing in the introduction is a treat in and of itself -- poetic and alliterative, betraying her background as a musician.

And many things in the introduction seem to speak to what I have been thinking and writing about this week. The whole idea of being centered and true to your own priorities no matter the state of the external world, no matter the demands that say your choices are not "fitting," no matter momentary circumstances.

From Kathleen Deignan:

In Merton's teaching, contemplation is the practice of supreme mindfulness and care. Yet, paradoxically, its fruit is a serene carelessness, as we are progressively freed from self-preoccupation and neurotic concern; we are allowed to live without the paralyzing anxiety that would extend its rule to our souls. There is no need for harried, hurried vexation. God is hidden within, and all things that are not a means of bringing the heart to this tranquility in the diving will are useless. This is the fruit of contemplative praise that arises from the hidden ground of love: the discovery of God in the discovery of our true self, and in that love which is the reality of both God and self, to embrace the world.

How many of us do not believe this to be true, that we are allowed to live without the paralyzing anxiety that would extend its rule to our souls? How many of us believe that life truly is suffering (rather than freedom from suffering)? How many of us believe that to be "crazy busy" is to be important, valuable, worthy?

This is a basic fallacy, a basic illusion, underlying many of our other illusions. But if we dig beyond these illusions, we find that deep within ourselves, we know the truth: that we are perfect as we are, that life is meant to be slow, sweet, and savored, that nothing matters but the tranquility of the moment, no matter (as I have said) what that moment holds for us on the outside.

I think of the calm space in which I resided while I held our dying cat, Jobie, and how safe and secure the world felt to me, even at his last breath. This cat, who taught me about unconditional love, will always be with me, and his passing left me knowing that serenity is only found in being who we were born to be.

No more fighting, no more trying. Just being.

What will it take for us to learn to just be? What will it take for you?