Spiritual Practice: Being Present

Reality.  It is a stinker right now.  We would rather not have to endure this overwhelming stoppage and restriction that has us anxious and impatient, irritable and sad. 

But now is all we have.  It is all we ever have, if you think about it.  Yesterday is gone.  Tomorrow exists only in our imaginations.  But “living in the now” seems like a silly statement.  Isn’t that what we are always doing?

Not if we are stuck in our memories.  Not if we stake our happiness on expectations for the future. 

There are gifts in the present moment.  I realize the present may be excruciating for you if you are dealing with loss or suffering in other ways.  Yet many who have endured suffering have been able to look back and see the gifts that were there: the love of family or a friend, the gracious help of caregivers, an unexpected moment of humor, the wisdom accrued in solitude and even austerity.

We don’t have to wait for the wisdom of hindsight to seek and find the gifts of the present moment.  Perhaps these days are a setting for you to recognize gifts you have previously overlooked: a healthy heart beating in your chest, the view out of your window, the rich taste of coffee, the pleasure of using a cherished memento.  Even a lack of beloved connections can be a gift to make you more aware of God’s presence that you didn’t take time to notice before. 

Here is a poem I wrote in one such moment.  If you would like to read a longer poem on the subject, you can check out this one about the glory of the present.  (Instructions on the spiritual practice appear at the end of this post.)

July Morning

I look out at the non-air-conditioned

unvacuumed, untidied backyard

and see life teeming

every leaf unfurled from a bud two months ago

goldfinches hatched from eggs.

My cat sleeps on his tail-cushion.

He was a kitten once

and I was an embryo before that.

The rug under my feet came from seeds

fibers woven by some hands

that once rested on mothers’ breasts.

Native life

and processed life

but all life

silently pulsing with

the casual wisdom of having been created

being here


for this.

So.  How to “be present?”  Here is one way.

Take a few deep, slow breaths.  Notice the abundance in your lungs filling up and the release of tension as you exhale.  Take your time.

Repeat to yourself slowly, as often as it feels right: “Now.  Here.  This.” 

If you notice something in your surroundings, give it your undivided attention for a few moments.

Let the peace of the moment settle into you as you gently move into the next part of your day.

Spiritual Practice: (Forced) Fasting

Fasting is an ancient practice that invites us to abstinence for the sake of spiritual focus.  I am no expert; you can find information and guidance in books devoted to this practice alone or to a range of spiritual disciplines.  My first experience with fasting happened in college when I decided to fast from lunches on Mondays during Lent and to give the money saved to a charity to alleviate hunger.  Occasional fasts since then have taken my mind off myself, my growling stomach reminding me of people who have too few choices about their nourishment and health. 

We usually think of fasting as abstinence from food, but abstinence can apply to anything:  social media, spending, personal vices or attitudes, and so on.  The reasons for fasting also vary.  In general, the practice shifts your focus and teaches you about your appetites and habits.  Communal fasting can help you to act and pray with intention along with others, focusing your efforts to learn together and perhaps act in harmony to achieve shared goals.  Individual fasting can deepen your prayer life, heighten your awareness, and help you live your baptism with greater intention.

Right now we are experiencing what might be called a “forced” fast.  We are abstaining from personal contact and community.  We are doing without some luxuries.  If this describes you, it may be a good time to accept the conditions and see what you can learn about yourself.  If you stop resisting the discomfort and open yourself to God’s presence in the midst of it, you may find that you will actually change your relationship with food, Facebook, money, activity,  etc. moving forward.

For too many, this is not simply a fast but a major disruption leading to empty shelves and unpaid bills.  Choosing abstinence is one thing; unexpected loss is another.  If this describes you, I can only hope that those of us who are not as devastated by these conditions will fast in some form in solidarity with you, and will open our hands in generosity for your sake.  I urge you to contact your pastor if you are struggling, so that your fellow church members may have the opportunity to help.  This could be done with anonymous donors and receivers.  “God provides” often means God’s people are mobilized to help.

May all of us emerge from this fast—forced or otherwise—with a keener sense of trust in God and love in community together.