Longing to be Still

Jesus, through this frantic world, could you just hold me still?

I don't want to be happy.
I do not want comfort,
for these things pass.

O How I long to be still, still, still with you.

I've had enough,
and nothing else will satisfy.
and there is nothing I won't do
to be still with you.

Let the world keep spinning,
Let it spin until I'm sick,
but Jesus, hold me still.

I want to be unmoving
when life moves lightning fast,
blowing me apart,
and leaving torment in its wake.

There is not much I can count on here.
People lie and use each other.
People die and people leave and
my world spins upside-down.

Just freeze me in your constant stop.
Still my thoughts, Still my heart, Still my being.
Still my all.

Your stillness,
dear sweet stillness,
doesn't have to feel good.
Only make your stillness last.

and Jesus,
Bind me to your cross forever,
for that is where the greatest peace is.

-Laura Marie Hall Paxton,
01/10/15

Advent: Preparation for His Power

Christmas teaches us about the strength and might in gentleness, mercy and innocence.

In preparation, Advent can teach us to cleanse ourselves of attraction to false power, so that we might become receptive to the true power of Christ in our lives.

Jesus Christ has brought the world an unexpected (and before unheard of) type of power. Before his arrival, many of the Jewish people were expecting a ruler of military strength, such as David. Much of our world believes power lies in physical strength, the ability to influence, or even to bully and hurt others, physically and emotionally. 

The attraction to power goes far beyond the obvious example above. Humans forget what's most important. We can become consumed with trying to prove our worth to others and to the world, so we may seem "powerful" in their eyes through our "specialness" or "greatness." 

When we are over-focused on creating the "perfect" Christmas celebration for our families, or on producing the perfect work of art or project at work, we are often led away from our primary goal of living here on earth, which is to love and serve God. We are not called to impress Him or anyone else.

Love and service don't have to be fancy or special, just real, honest, sincere and from our heart.

Just through the "mere" act of being born, Jesus demonstrated for us how to live all eight beatitudes. When the Creator of the universe came to us as a tiny baby, He taught us all we need to know about how to love.

When we look at a painting or icon of the Blessed Virgin Mary holding Jesus, the baby, who is really the focus? Mary is larger and Jesus is smaller, but does that mean Mary is more important? 

No, for Jesus taught us that we are to come to Him as a little child. Jesus never asks us to do anything He did not do first. Jesus comes to us in a tiny, vulnerable human form, held lovingly by his mother, who serves Him with her care. 

It is in the image of Madonna and Child that we see true majesty and might of Christ. Within that tiny baby is contained all the strength and power in the universe. He doesn't want to force us to love Him, but beckons us through the sheer power of His love to open our hearts and souls to Him. 

Jesus came to us in a dirty stable, a place we where we would probably be ashamed for anyone to visit us. Jesus still wants to meet us there, in those dirty, shameful, hidden places of our souls. And he meets us there with the purest, humblest and most precious love there is. 

During advent, as we prepare for Christmas, let us prepare our hearts and souls to receive the strength of the peace of Christ. Let that purification time center around letting go of false ideas of what makes us and others strong. Let us give ourselves to Him with greater humility, purity and simplicity, as He first gave himself to us. 

"O Blessed Jesus,

Give me stillness of soul in you.

Let your mighty calmness reign in me.

Rule me, O King of Gentleness,

King of Peace."

-St. John of the Cross

Strange Islands Beyond the Self-Absorbed

As I was walking home from mass today, I noticed that I was standing in an odd place. Why was I there? I had walked a block from where I needed to turn to go home and I had not noticed anything on my way. My last memory was of crossing the street two blocks before and from that point, my legs moved, but I was lost in my mind.

Of course, most people and not just autistics wander off in their thoughts and get physically lost occasionally.  Yet, this experience is often frequent in autistic adults as well as children. Sometimes, it's called, "wandering," and it can be quite dangerous, especially when children do it. In my case today, it was simple to change my path to walk home, but I cannot recall the number of times this sort of thing has happened to me. At times of my life, especially under stress, it's more the rule than the exception.

The comical part of all this is the content of the thoughts I was having. I was deeply pondering and contemplating why I am often so self-absorbed! Oh, wow. This is the very thing I've been "working on" in my spiritual life lately, and I was too self-absorbed to see it! So, I actually stopped and laughed a little bit, (well, actually I giggled pretty intensely,) out of the blue- also a very autistic thing to do.  I did not care who might be looking on at the "loony girl."

On the way home, I was careful to look around and watch the trees and flowers. I really enjoyed the sense of being more open to the world. I did not want to look at the people, and that is common for me.

The social world is not a "safe place" for autistic people.  The social world is a mass of confusing things- Nonverbal communication is supposed to be 80% of communication and my brain has no area  that works to process such things. I know I'm missing a lot. By only hearing the words, I cannot detect deceit. I also don't pick up on insincerity well. I have to be careful to try to take in the overall context of the conversation anyway, so that I don't say something socially that doesn't "fit," and embarrass myself or offend another person.

People are also over-stimulating in themselves. Just watching their face while I hear their voice can be overwhelming. So, social time is tiring, to say the least.. and the better and more convincing I manage to do at it, the more exhausted I am later.

And, of course, this brings me to the topic of how is it that I can be less self-centered, when being inside myself is my sanctuary? At the end of the day, I look back on the times when people tried to share something about themselves to me and I assumed it was all about me, when it wasn't. I want to be more present for people. I want to be a better friend. To do that, I need to take risks and that doesn't mean I feel comfortable with them.

God did not intend a purely contemplative life in a cloister for me. He has called me to be a contemplative in the world. It's the "in the world" part I don't like. Yet, if I can get lost in a book, in artwork or a game or learning coding, I can get lost in a person and what they have to say as well, when I am determined to do that. People should never assume I'm not interested in them or that I don't care about them because of these difficulties, because it usually has little to do with that.

People who need the most love are the least safe. My Secular Carmelite friends are actually perfect friends. They do not gossip. They do not talk negatively about anyone else. If they do, they are running to confession right away! No, I am not worried about any sort of harm from them.

And yet, Jesus Christ calls me to open myself to people, who can be the source of harm, and to a life of loving, giving and service even to the point of the very crucifixion of myself. Now, it would make no sense to continually force myself to socialize to the point of meltdown every day. The trick is to take good care of myself so I can tolerate more and more time with people. To do that, I need to do more than merely monitor and reduce sensory overwhelm.

I need a deeply secure spiritual core, to provide a sense of emotional safety, so that even if I am in a meltdown, I am at peace. (And yes, that is possible, because a meltdown is the involuntary response of the nervous system to overstimulation, not a psychological issue.) We can have migraines and be at peace, so why not in a meltdown? I am learning this.

St. John of the Cross writes often about "strange islands," which is the experience of finding himself in a state of awareness and experience he has never been in before. He is referring to experiences he has within himself with God. For me, the "strange islands" are about taking God with me as I venture into the wilderness of unpredictable and confusing people.

And so, in this way, I hope I find myself "standing in an odd place" more often, with my deep sense of security in God unaltered.

Insights from Carmel- A Guide to Growth Toward Union with God

Insights from Carmel by Patricia Tresselle, OCDS, has gone to press! The books should be available in the next week or two, just in time for Christmas!

I'm more excited about this book project than any others I have done this year (including my own.) I love Pat's book. She provides an in-depth study of the writings of Carmelite saints, Carmelite prayer types and methods, and meditations through the liturgical year. 

The book is intended to be used at the discretion of formation directors in the various communities but it is also a great introduction for anyone who wants to learn more about Carmelite spirituality and the Carmelite way of life.

The goal of Carmelite spirituality is to live in union with God. Pat Tresselle shares some powerful insights and tools to grow as close as possible in relationship to Christ our Lord.

Here's what's in the book (from the table of contents):

   

1. The Process of Formation
2. The Development and Necessity of Prayer 
3. Basic Types of Prayer
4. Stages of Prayer: Following St. Teresa 
5. Prayer and St. John of the Cross
6. St. Therese and the “Little Way of Prayer”
7. Prayer and Christian Meditation 
8. Lent, Penance and Prayer 
9. Epiphany
10. A Journey Through The Interior Castle 
11. May- The Month of Mary
12. Prayer and Action In a Carmelite Life
13. St. John of The Cross, Teacher and Guide 
14. Meditation On The Magnificat
15. The Beatitudes and Carmelite Spirituality 
16. The Way of the Cross and The Way of Nada 
17. Meditation on Gethsemane
18. Meditation of Jesus’ Last Words on the Cross

Carmelite Tradition and the Exaltation of the Cross Day

Today is the Feast Day of the Exaltation of the Cross. This day is important in Carmelite tradition, because the Rule of St. Albert, which all our constitutions are based on, declared that all Carmelites should fast from this day until Easter. That's right. You didn't read that wrong. Seven months out of the year- fasting. Fasting does not always mean going completely without food. Rather, it means eating less or skipping certain meals. Luckily, Carmelites are no longer required to fast for seven months!

In fact, I'm sure the early Carmelites would not have been able to eat this delicious cake we ate today, made by Terry Ianora. It's chocolate with white icing and a cross made out of chocolate chips. Yummy!

Today was one of the best days I've spent at Carmel Maria Regina Monastery. Our community of Secular Carmelites spends one Saturday a month at the monastery with mass, liturgy of the hours, prayer, meetings and formation classes. Today was nice because of the theme we had of "embracing the cross." For our Lectio Divina time, we meditated on a poem by St. Teresa of Avila called, "Embracing the Cross." The poem was read three times, with time for us to meditate a while and then discuss. Each time, we saw more in it as a group and even on the final reading, I noticed things we hadn't mentioned. It's a very rich and meaningful poem that doesn't really seem that way upon the first reading.

So, we contemplated most of the day what it means to "embrace the cross." I came to understand some things for the first time. When the cross is exalted in our minds and in our hearts, our attention is focused completely on God. In her poem, St. Teresa says, "Be cloistered in Him." In her lifetime, she often said, "The greatest cloister is ourselves." She is talking about going within that secret place deep within us where we can be alone with God. From that still place, chaos in the world and intense stormy emotions can move through the soul and yet the soul is at peace with God. St. Teresa wants us to nurture the sanctity of that place in our hearts. The only way to do that is to exalt the cross and to embrace the cross.

Later in the afternoon, my formation class continued our study on The Spiritual Canticle by St. John of the Cross. I had an immediate affinity for the first 12 stanzas because they were about intense emotions. I intuitively understood those stanzas almost "word for word" as St. John explained them in his commentaries. Stanzas 13-24 thoroughly confused me, so I was glad to have a class to help me understand it better. In these stanzas, the soul moves from a "purification" stage to an "illumination" stage. In the first section, the soul is emotional because the soul has just experienced God but has too much confusion and emotional turmoil to really be still and be with Him. In the second section, the soul progressively learns to move beyond the senses and emotions.

Coincidentally (yeah, right!) this is the same thing I've been most focused on working on in spiritual direction lately. Being still, in quiet, "dispassionate," and at peace is a process St. John describes well. In that place of peace, we find Christ. In that place of deep stillness, we find the Cross, learn to exalt and embrace it in our lives.

I'd say this was a good day :)

Panic, Anxiety, Borderline Personality and Hunger for God

I've been studying Spiritual Canticle by St. John of the Cross as part of my OCDS Secular Carmelite formation program. 

 

Every Friday afternoon, I spend an hour in the Adoration Chapel at church. Today, I had the idea to practice lectio divina with the stanzas. I was surprised by some of the reflections I had. For some reason, I was pulled to the topic of mental illness, specifically anxiety disorder, panic attacks and borderline personality disorder. 

The first twelve stanzas struck me as "angsty" and full of longing and distress. Anxiety permeates the entire section. The "bride" has seen God, who is "the bridegroom," only for an instant, and then He was gone. If she had not seen Him or known He was there, she could not feel the pain of loss, and because he caused the sense of loss, only He could heal her.

The phrases of the Canticle are intense and dramatic,such as, "If you shall see Him Whom I love the most, Tell Him I anguish, suffer, and die," and, "all wound me more and more, and something leaves me dying, I know not what, of which they are darkly speaking."

Anyone who has suffered from anxiety disorder or panic attacks knows that feeling- the fear that you will die. When we are infants, we cannot be abandoned, or we will certainly die. People suffering from borderline personality disorder have an intense fear that others will abandon them, often because one of their primary caregivers did as a child, so this type of anxiety is common. Threats like, "Don't leave or I will die," or "Come back or I will kill myself," are based on the same primal terror.

The truth is that we will die without God. We are dependent on him for our breath and our heartbeat. We are dependent on him for eternal life as well. Once we have "experienced" God (which usually is an emotional experience,) we become filled with the desire to fully merge with Him, the source of life itself. 

If a person suffering emotional turmoil were to turn to God rather than to a human person in order to heal from such deep wounding, that person will not be disappointed, for God will never leave her. 

Only an infinite God can fill the infinite hole in our hearts. God offers the  ultimate medicine.

Those who turn to God will understand St. John of the Cross, when he says,

X
Quench my troubles,
For no one else can soothe them;
And let my eyes behold You,
For You are their light,
And I will keep them for You alone.

XI
Reveal Your presence,
And let the vision and Your beauty kill me,
Behold the malady
Of love is incurable
Except in Your presence and before Your face.

St. Therese of Liseux, "Play Mate" of the Child Jesus

An Excerpt from, "Insights from Carmel," 

by Pat Tresselle, OCDS

In my early years as a Carmelite, I was eager to get to know about the lives of all our great Carmelite saints. St. Teresa of Avila, the reformer and foundress of the Discalced Carmelites, I found easy to read and relate to. She was spunky, outgoing, and a determined woman who led a full life and experienced the deepest spiritual relationship with God. Her writings were simple outlining prayer and spiritual paths to God.

St. John of the Cross was not so simple. He was highly educated and his spiritual heights were reached through much adversity. His writings and spiritual guidance were very deep and needed to be read over and over again to fully understand and appreciate his teachings.

Then there is St. Therese of Lisieux, with her short and sheltered life, telling us of her “little way.” I must admit upon first reading of her life and writings I said, “How could this young girl, with little experience of life and a relatively easy and sheltered one at that, really know anything and think she could give anyone else advice?” It took me several years of re-reading her works and getting to know her, and also developing a little more spiritual maturity, that I could truly appreciate the simplicity and innocence that only lay on the surface of her deep spirituality. 

 

I learned we had more in common and experience than I realized and that she does, indeed, teach us more about perseverance and faith through the “dark nights” of our life than the others because she did not have the ecstasies and spiritual consolations as Teresa and John did to help bring her to the heights of union. Her knowledge of God was simply infused into her.

While the teachings of St. Teresa and St John of the Cross were from their own experiences and written as steps or instructions to others, St. Therese and her “little way” is based simply on faith, hope and love. She experienced very few spiritual consolations, yet her prayer was firm in the faith of God’s presence and love for her and all sinners. She experienced her own “dark nights,” even to the very end of her life, but she always had hope in her prayers for God’s mercy and acceptance of her littleness. And love continuously shined through her life in her constant efforts to please her father, her sisters, several nuns in her monastery that seemed to resent her.

She was always praying for the conversions of sinners and missions. In her littleness, she had much devotion to the Child Jesus and to the Holy Face which she took as her religious name. In the final months of her sickness, she tried never to be an inconvenience to the other sisters and always apologized if she was short with them. Love and charity prevailed even when her faith and hope were at the lowest ebb.

But most of all, without her even realizing it, she had so much to teach us. The little flowers she promised to rain from heaven were her simple words about prayer. Those words are so simple, spontaneous, innocent, and precocious, but always from her pure heart. She never provided particular plans or instructions on prayer, but enjoyed simple and direct conversation with Jesus, just as St. Teresa of Avila had encouraged. With Therese, there didn’t need to be a special place to be in. Wherever she was - in bed, at play, on a trip, in company or alone, her thoughts could go quickly to the presence of her “Child Jesus” and tell Him all of what was on her mind or in her heart at a given moment. 

 

In her childlike fervor, she loved to imagine herself as a little ball that the “Child Jesus” could play with. She would correlate different circumstances of her life to what Jesus was doing with his “little toy ball” at the time - either bouncing it around in play, or holding it tight to His heart, or just leaving it alone in the corner. She would imagine that, during the arid times of prayer, Jesus had left her (the ball) in the corner and the he was sleeping and not paying attention to her.

She also liked to imagine herself as a little flower and, every time she did a good deed or accepted a sacrifice, she was placing another little flower at the feet of Jesus. She referred to that often in her Story of a Soul and thus she received the nickname of “St. Therese the Little Flower.”

St. Therese, in her own little way, passed through all the “mansions” of St. Theresa’s Interior Castle and the “dark nights” of St. John of the Cross. She had her share of doubt, aridity, consolation and emptiness in her short lifetime. We cannot compare or judge anyone’s sufferings or trials against another as God gives according to each person’s character and spirituality what they need. A small thing to one individual can be a very big thing to another. What might appear to be a relatively small trial, when experienced by St. Therese, they seemed like huge caverns to her pure and simple soul.

She was just fourteen when she first desired to enter Carmel. No doubt, much of this desire in the beginning was due to her two older sisters already in Carmel, especially since her sister Pauline had been a surrogate mother for Therese when their mother died. But the trials she went through the next whole year to obtain special permission to enter at age fifteen greatly matured her. Then her father, whom she loved dearly, died shortly after she entered the convent.

In her nine short years living as a Carmelite nun, she experienced mostly aridity and the “dark nights” and, even while lying sick before her death, she wrote of her “Trial of Faith.” Because she had tuberculosis and endured a prolonged and agonizing illness, she experienced and accepted this as true martyrdom and sainthood. But to persevere in faith and hope and love when at times it seemed God wasn't listening or seemed to not be there was the hardest of all. 

 

I am sure we have all experienced these feelings and St. Therese gave the greatest example for us- to remain at peace and persevere until the end. Hers is the prayer of simplicity- just speaking directly to God about our deepest longings and complete surrendering as a child to a parent, remaining in faith and the feet of Jesus until He is ready to “play.” 

 

Through her and by her example, many of her sisters in the monastery with her, (including her own blood sisters and many others that followed after,) gained knowledge and hope that through the little trials of life, they could experience union and be close to God, even in the “little ways.” We need not feel that the absence of visions or ecstasies means failure, for we can, without our knowing it, soar to great spiritual heights. 

 

Therese not only experienced great sufferings, but offered even her darkest moments as a sacrifice and holocaust to Jesus on behalf of sinners. We, too, must realize we can offer all our own suffering and struggles to God as our sacrifice (our holocaust) and wait patiently for God’s will to be done. Prayer is the key. Constant persevering prayer, in good times and in bad, both as set down by our Rule and every time our heart feels the tug for spontaneous conversation with Our Lord. Prayer gives us courage and keeps us connected to the Lord of life.

Like her, in childlike simplicity, we place ourselves at Jesus’ feet like a ball or little flowers. We bask in His love and raise our petals in prayer. “Here I am Lord! Accept my life as a sweet fragrance of my love.” But if Our Lord walks past us and our petals are temporarily crushed beneath His Precious Feet, have no fear or feel lost. He’ll be back. Let sweet surrender renew your petals of prayer, for the Son of God will shine on you again. One day, He will stoop to pick us up and place us in His heavenly garden.

(from "Insights from Carmel," coming soon from Carmel Heart Media)

"If there was a God, he wouldn't let me feel the way I do." -Kip Kinkle

The picture on the right is of a fifteen year old boy we all know well. Few doubt his psychological pain and turmoil and the intense suffering he must have felt. Yet, why did he draw the conclusion that because we feel miserable, God does not exist?

It's not hard to see how Kip came to that conclusion. We live in a "feel good" world.  We live in a world where truth is relative, we are the center of the universe and God is only real if the world runs as we think it should and we think we should feel good.

For centuries, people understood how pain and suffering had an important place in spiritual growth and development. This understanding was often taken for granted. In fact, many believed that the greatest love God ever showed was to suffer with us, to show us that he would not ask us to bear anything he hadn't borne before us. 

In this world where most believe feeling good is the most important goal a human being can have, some of us still believe life is about much more. Suffering is not proof there is no God. Suffering helps us realize we need to rely on God. There is medicine available for suffering that creates sickness of soul. We find it through uniting our suffering with the suffering of Christ, so that our love has purpose far beyond ourselves and for all mankind. God doesn't take our suffering away when it can give Him an opportunity to show His love through us. When we hurt, God is with us, closely with us, and that is why he came to die for us and with us.

Here are some quotes from Carmelite Saints. They express this so much better than I can-

"The purest suffering bears and carries in its train the purest understanding."
-St. John of the Cross

"Would that men might come at last to see that it is quite impossible to reach the thicket of the riches and wisdom of God except by first entering the thicket of much suffering, in such a way that the soul finds there its consolation and desire. The soul that longs for divine wisdom chooses first, and in truth, to enter the thicket of the cross."
-St. John of the Cross

"Truth suffers, but never dies."
-St. Teresa of Avila

"Love consists not in feeling great things but in having great detachment and in suffering for the Beloved."
-St. John of the Cross

"There is no affliction, trial, or labor difficult to endure, when we consider the torments and sufferings which Our Lord Jesus Christ endured for us."
-St. Teresa of Jesus