The Home Altar

The little season celebrated by the Franciscan family from September 17th to October 4th is called Francistide. The community reflects on the faithful death of Francis and his confidence that Sister Death would carry him home to Christ.

Francis had been fasting in preparation for the commemoration of Michael and All the Angels when he had an incredible vision of a Seraph on Holy Cross Day (September 14th) This mystical encounter left him marked with the wounds of Jesus, known as stigmata (signs), on his hands, feed, side and head. The revelation of these signs of unity with Christ is celebrated on September 17th.

Francis was in ill health, failing from his days as a prisoner of war and from the constant discipline to which he had subjected his body. When it became clear that he would not recover, he was laid in the Little Portion Chapel and attended to by his closest friends. The community began to mourn, and all the while he kept pointing away from himself and towards Jesus.

During this time Francis composed his most famous poem, the Canticle of the Creatures, a soaring exposition of his faith in Christ, love for God as creator, and profound sense of kinship with everything around him.

Most High, all powerful, good Lord, Yours are the praises, the glory, the honour, and all blessing.

To You alone, Most High, do they belong, and no man is worthy to mention Your name.

Be praised, my Lord, through all your creatures, especially through my lord Brother Sun, who brings the day; and you give light through him. And he is beautiful and radiant in all his splendour! Of you, Most High, he bears the likeness.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Moon and the stars, in heaven you formed them clear and precious and beautiful.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Wind, and through the air, cloudy and serene, and every kind of weather through which You give sustenance to Your creatures.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Water, which is very useful and humble and precious and chaste.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Brother Fire, through whom you light the night and he is beautiful and playful and robust and strong.

Praised be You, my Lord, through Sister Mother Earth, who sustains us and governs us and who produces varied fruits with coloured flowers and herbs.

Praised be You, my Lord, through those who give pardon for Your love, and bear infirmity and tribulation.

Blessed are those who endure in peace for by You, Most High, they shall be crowned.

Praised be You, my Lord, through our Sister Bodily Death, from whom no living man can escape.

Woe to those who die in mortal sin. Blessed are those whom death will find in Your most holy will, for the second death shall do them no harm.

Praise and bless my Lord, and give Him thanks and serve Him with great humility.

Traditional celebrations of Francistide include visiting with members of the Franciscan family for prayer and meditation, liturgies celebrating creation and offering blessings to animals, meditating on the power of the Cross, and a solemn vespers on October 3rd to mark the occasion of Francis’ dying. This is often followed up by eating sweet almond cookies, a favorite treat of Francis, in memory of the kindness of Br. Jacoba, a devoted follower who visited him near the end.

Practice

• What’s a significant stretch of days in your practice and tradition?
• What are the sights, sounds, smells, and tastes of that time?
• How do you gather with others for an experience of shared life and practice?
• Take some time for silence and then offer a prayer of thanks for this time.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

I have never been the sort of person who prepares a detailed agenda or itinerary for my time away. When people try to wring every ounce of experience out of a trip, because of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out) or to maxmize ROI (Return on Investment), what I hear is the anxious mind that drives our work and world far too often laying hold to the blessing of rest and renewal.

This isn’t to say that I am aimless when I travel. There is a certain amount of planning that goes into the actual journey there and back again. I may have hopes of sharing moments with loved ones, like the beach walk and shell finding in the picture. Part of what makes rest into rest is a lack of demand, either internal or external. The reset that my body, mind, and soul needs comes from that flexibility, freedom, and non-attachment to outcomes.

I do think of different kinds of time away differently, and find that when I try to mix and match, especially multiple kinds of time away into one trip, I often feel undernourished and overstimulated. Instead of dwelling richly in one heart and headspace, I’m bouncing from one posture to another, effectively recreating my daily living. There can be great joy in being present to one good thing.

When I’m away from home for Retreat, I go to focus on nurturing my relationship to the Divine and to other pilgrims who are following their practice along the way. Whether solo or in a group, I look for ways to embrace prayer, silence, contemplation, worship, active sharing and listening, being fully present to what is happening. I may see beautiful sights along the way, but I don’t go sightseeing. If there is a schedule planned by the group or the site, I follow it, while also attending to my needs. If there is no schedule, I let the simple rhythms of the Earth and my daily practice be a loose framework, and then move mindfully through whatever comes. There may be meals to enjoy, recreation available, but I simply fold these in, without making them the point. I dwell in the present and enjoy God’s company.

When I travel for Renewal, I have the nurture of my mind front and center. This includes events like conferences and workshops, as well as making visits to cultural and historic sites. I find that this sort of time away is best suited to places I might only visit once, or unique learning opportunities to be nourished by gifted teachers. The spirit I try to bring to this wandering is curiosity, and a generous heart to receive the best of what I encounter. Even as I do this, I leave room for lament, and the weight of grief that comes with encountering the sorrowful side of history. Engaging in this way helps me to learn with my whole body, and not just my intellect.

Respite, like the beach trip pictured above, is about being away from my daily responsibilities, moving intentionally and slowly through the day, savoring the little things, like a lovely walk, a good meal, a quiet moment, a thoughtful story. If I have forgotten for a moment what day it is, or what task I would be doing on a typical day, but feel deeply grounded in the moment, I know that the time is unfolding as I had hoped. This can even be true as I flex and float around weather, shuffling activities, or deciding to do less.

Travel for Revival is about watering the seeds of compassion and justice in my heart. I may be headed to a state or national capital, to the headquarters of a church body, or to another seat of power, but in every case, I go so that I can go together with other people of good conscience. This sort of time away isn’t for entertainment, incidental touring, or relaxing. It’s also not meant to be tourism in the pain and suffering of my neighbors. I go so that our voices can be heard, and I can practice speaking truth to power in great love. I go to encourage the others who go, that our spirits might be lifted that very day, even if the particular curse we are contending with isn’t.

In all of these adventures, there are anchors that they share.

For one, I am never alone.

Whether I am in the company of the Spirit and the prayers of my global community on solo retreat, in the crowd at a conference, on a vacation like the beach trip with my household, in a monastery surrounded by silent siblings, or enjoying a raucous meal with chosen family, I am connected to and in communion with those around me.

Regardless of the form of travel, I attend to my rule of life, and the keeping of my daily spiritual practices. These help create the pace I need.

I look for ways to notice, to savor, and to cherish the good that arises from each kind of time away. In so doing, they become a part of me for the rest of my life.

Practice

Spend some time with your journal or in conversation with a trusted friend.

• What makes time away refreshing for you?
• When does it feel like more work than work?
• How can you move at a pace to be present to what is happening now, and not what is happening next?

Reflect on what you learn and wonder about how you might shift your practice to make time away nourishing and nurturing for you!

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

I can't help the mothering instinct, asking if everyone is home safe

There is comfort, replies of both adventures and misadventures trickling in

The circle grows ever wider

Those who found a home in solitude

In this year's family portrait

In another family's portrait

In the faithful discernment of both hello and goodbye

There are ones who aren't home yet

Beckoning to us to become

Our kin in

Community

Ministry

Radical welcome

Mutual liberation

Not everyone is home yet. Praise the Holy One for dispersing us

To meet and love them with fierce gentleness

In the days, weeks, and year ahead.

A reflection on traveling home from Chapter 2024.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

I’m taking some time away this week, living in community with other members of the Order of Ecumenical Franciscans. We’ll be spending time in silence, in conversation, in prayer, and in prayerful discernment for the life of the whole community.

Each year, Chapter and Convocation includes several components, each of which is nourishing in its own way.

Communal Living- we share space, a schedule, meals, conversation, walks, silent abiding, and the sharing of news and stories from across our many lives. We make cards for those who cannot be present, and we lift both the order and the larger Franciscan family in prayer. Regional fellowships plan gatherings and retreats.

Worship- we keep the hours of the Daily Office, with rotating leadership in prayer and contemplation. We celebrate the Eucharist together as a sign of our unity in diversity, and get to hear some marvelous preaching and teaching. We celebrate rites of passage as people are welcomed at every stage of formation and discernment, as well as renewing those vows across the community. We sing, we laugh, we love, we rejoice, we lament, we console each other.

Convocation- we learn together. This year we’re having a series of panels to share the experience of joining the order in various decades as we celebrate our 40th anniversary.

Chapter- we sit together in prayerful discernment to listen carefully to each other and to the urging of the Holy Spirit. We receive news of the order and its activities and make plans for the year ahead. We make solemn decisions about admission and release.

Service– we engage in service to our host community as a way of being in solidarity with the people who call it home year round.

Play- we solve puzzles, play games, go for walks, do silly dances, compete for the ignominious prizes of the Juniper Cup (a farcical talent show). Some siblings go for a run, engage in yoga, or even go for a swim.

Wonder- we anchor ourselves in the present moment, asking where we have been, where we might be going, and what new adventures are a part of the unfolding wisdom being revealed in our midst.

I look forward to sharing the fruits of these endeavors in the weeks ahead. In the meantime, I pray that your practice will be a blessing to you and to everyone you meet. When the temptation to do or overdo arises, remember that you can simply be and in so doing you are beloved.

Practice

Take a moment today to journal some memories of a community that means a lot to you and where you feel deep safety, connection, and thriving.

• How do you know you belong?
• What are the gifts you give to the community?
• What gifts do they give you?
• How is your shared practice held by the community?

Take a moment to pray for that group, expressing your gratitude and love.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

Our little dog is getting old. Sure 14 going on 15 doesn’t sound old, but that’s 102 in human years! It seems like everything is up for renegotiation. Playing with toys has been replaced with resting gently on a stuffy as a pillow. Long nature walks have been replaced by long afternoon naps. Just this year he’s needed treatment for a serious illness, special prescription food, and now daily eye treatments as he struggles with vision loss.

Our canine brother is truly a senior and it has brought what feels like non-stop change and daily challenge. Caring for him is now part and parcel in my daily discipline. From listening for his first stirring in the morning to carry him downstairs to the main floor, to making sure he gets a quick relief walk right after a meal, to the administration of a couple kinds of eye medicine.

Getting up and down the apartment porch stairs was starting to get scary, both for the humans and the dog. The once brave and bouncy descendant of wolves was struggling to find the stairs and plant his feet. It was time to do something different, to accept that an accommodation and a new tool were needed to continue finding the joy in each day, even the strange ones.

Spending a day building a custom ramp for a dog might seem frivolous or like too much work, but I firmly believe that just as age and disability come for all of us, that those moments of honest encounter provide an opportunity to practice kinship with all creation. Especially the parts of creation that we have promised to care for. It was a chance for compassion to shine, and for love to be rekindled.

I’m pleased to say that it only took a small amount of scattered kibble and some gentle coaching, and now Matteo is a true Ramp Champ. The added dignity and safety of the trip up and down has resulted in more requests to go outside, whether to walk around the neighborhood, or to fall asleep in the grass sunbathing. We were better able to be family together with the right adaptations in place.

This isn’t all that different from our relationship with ourselves, others, and God that comes through our daily practice. Sometimes, what worked in one phase of our life simply isn’t helpful, safe, or loving any more. Other times, we can engage in components of our practice, with assistance from a new tool or structure.

We may move from memorized prayers to simply abiding silently, or from walking the labyrinth on foot to tracing one with our finger. We may have to embrace the reality that streaming or on-line worship is more accessible, due to our mobility, neurotype, or trauma history. We may lean on our fellow travelers more, trusting that the practice of the whole community is our practice too. We might be on more people’s prayer lists than we’re used to, relying on the love and compassion flowing to us.

This is all healthy, good, and kind. The insistence that a practice must be exactly the same for the entirety of our time embracing it is simply the delusion of control and permanence that we love to chase as human beings. Matteo is lucky to be a creature who thrives on living in the moment (except for when he dreams vigorously!). His ability to face change once he knew that he was safe and cared for is inspiring. The pursuit of contemplative consciousness is the longing to be lovingly and mercifully present to what actually is. If we cling to that space, that is where our caregivers, both divine and human, can meet us where we are and help us find joy and safety going in and out and about our daily living. We can be ramp champs too, putting our feet confidently on the artificial turf and moving forward with our companions.

Practice

Take a moment to ground yourself and center on the Spirit moving through your breath.

Let your mind wander over the many ways you have engaged with spiritual practice over your lifetime. Savor the goodness and the consolation that came along with it.

• What practices have you set down? Give thanks for what they provided and then gently bid them Godspeed to the next person who might use them.
• What practices continue to this day? Spend some time in gratitude for your current disciplines.
• What practices need modifications or adaptations? Who might you ask to help you build a structure that will allow you to move forward safely and confidently?

As you finish this reflection, marvel at all the connections represented in these memories and wonderments. Move into your day with this breath prayer:

Inhale: I am still here.

Exhale: I am not alone.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

Last weekend I spent a significant bit of time on a single garden project. I built a raspberry trellis out of wood, cable, and metal stakes. The eventual goal is to take the somewhat unruly raspberry bush and gently train it up into the cables so it can grow with better airflow, lots of sunshine, and easy access for pollinators.

Since the structure will also allow for the healthy canes to be held aloft, the weedy ground cover that has invaded the patch will be exposed where we can cut it down, hoe it out, and provide protective cover and mulch for the space. All of this work should help to make this patch fruitful and give it room to grow as we let suckers start new canes inside the bounds of the trellis system. The cables are set up in such a way that we can loosen the clamps and add more tension. And the cables are attached to the posts with carabiner clips, meaning the cables can be opened for pruning, harvesting, and adjusting. There is a lot of flexibility within the structure, since we’re partnering with a plant that is growing, changing, and living in it’s own organic pattern.

This structure reminds me of the way a rule of life (whether corporate, personal, or some combination of the two) and a personal spiritual practice work when they are a healthy system designed to both hold space and provide a container for a growing, changing, living self. While there is a defined layout and method of containment, and there is a slow and gentle work of attaching to the apparatus, it needs to be flexible enough to accommodate what is real and true in a given moment of our life and growing.

A rule and a practice should be giving us gentle guidance that points us in the direction of the wisdom we want to embody. It should regularly expose us to the spiritual nourishment that we need, just as the trellis helps the patch access sun, water, pollinators, and good airflow. It helps when our practice meets us at the level of our thirst, breath, hunger, and longing for connections that make us more fruitful. Our rule and practice can guide our growth in ways that provides support and healthy space to what is new, what is emerging, and what is flowering.

It’s even helpful when our rule and practice makes room for the gardeners (our mentors, companions, partners, and even the Holy One) to weed our plot, clear out the things we don’t need or that hold us back, and to provide the safety of mulch and protection for our roots. Moving beyond a self-help model of being our best selves, we can find the flexibility and openness we need to be both our current selves (weeds and slugs and all) and to bear witness to what emerges as we continue the mystery of becoming who we will be.

Practice

Spend some time writing down or studying your rule (the disciplines of loving self, others, and the Divine that you are committed to), and your practice (what makes up your daily and weekly habits of awe, meaning making, prayer, reflection, meditation, etc.).

• What are the parts that bring you in touch with nourishment and support that comes from beyond yourself?
• What parts give you guidelines and boundaries?
• Where do you see space for you to grow and change, and to adjust as you go?
• Who is actively helping you to weed, mulch, and compost the parts of your life and experience that interfere with your well-being, sense of peace, and felt safety that helps you to trust?
• How are you enjoying and savoring this structure? If you aren’t, what feels inflexible, constricting, or unhelpful and would be a great area to explore with a trusted listener?

After your reflection, take time to feel the gratitude for what feels supportive, and to ask for help and self-compassion on the areas that need tending. Send some love to your rule and your practice, noting how it keeps you connected to yourself, to others, and to the Holy One.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

It’s been a little bit as I’ve been spending time being gentle with myself. I hope that my readers and clients find ways to take that freedom too when life is momentous, heavy, or hard. Almost immediately after sharing my post about the reflective practices of Holy Week, my own family life was upended by loss, grief, and bereavement.

Inside our household at St. Clare House, we’ve been riding the waves of challenge as our dog Matteo ages. He is losing his sight. He isn’t a puppy or even an adult dog now at 14 years old. He’s a senior. Along with this slow moving transition, he had a serious bout of pancreatitis, which can be fatal if left untreated. While he has made it through treatment and a restricted medical diet and seems to be doing well, this is another step in the aging process of decline. Recognizing that a beloved creature has less time left than we have already richly enjoyed brings grief.

As if this were not enough, all of these household gyrations and animal hospital visits took place in the same space as a broader family loss. My partner’s father had been failing in health since 2022, and in 2024 the decline worsened. So it was that on Wednesday of Holy Week we were rushing to the animal hospital even as our other family members were taking him to the emergency room on Holy Wednesday.

Unsure of how things might play out, knowing how many small emergencies had subsided in the past two years, we remained home for one more night. The very next morning we were greeted by the phone call no one wants to get, “something has happened and they are working to revive him.” Fifteen years of chaplaincy and bereavement care in the parish told me that we had arrived at the final chapter.

In lieu of the traditional Holy Week exercises, we spent Maundy Thursday racing to Connecticut so we could be bedside with the rest of the family. We participated in my father-in-law’s receiving the sacrament of the sick and last rites. We said goodbye to this well loved father, father-in-law, husband, friend. We learned the gut punch of the Paschal mysteries first hand as we watched him die.

We held each other in tears, through donated meals, in wondering, in processing, in sorrow, and in relief. We stayed close to the upper room of the family dining room, wondering if there could still be life in the face of this very real loss. We began the process of telling the story of this man we loved to one another, so that we would be ready to recount it to others in the days ahead.

The shock of Good Friday. The silence of Holy Saturday. All embodied in a gathered body in a family childhood home. Easter was weird. The mention of my father-in-law in the intercessions brought fresh weeping. The meal was delicious and good, and it was so good to be together and yet so strange. Somehow we had come to the day of resurrection “still doubting and wondering”.

At first, I felt thrown by this turn of events, and by the way in which the rituals of personal bereavement had supplanted the ritual practice of the Holy Days. In addition, I had finished a Lenten routine that I dearly loved and found very anchoring throughout the season, and it seemed as though now I was untethered.

It was only as I was reflecting with my own spiritual director that I saw how I was riding out the storm thanks to the ballast of my practice (both old and keeping a few items from Lent), and that while I might feel a bit rudderless (unable to steer), my balance in the waves was holding up. Daily meditation through breath prayer, walking, and my prayer rope had continued at habitual level, and I had barely noticed. The daily offices were like old friends, coming and calling each day to see how I was. Praying for others felt purposeful. These all anchored me as I gave loving guidance to family members as they planned a funeral and a celebration of life, prepared obituaries, and crafted heartfelt eulogies. My experience of doing this hundreds of times made these compassionate tasks a source of comfort to them and to me.

I’m still grieving and I will be for some time. My practice has not been a shortcut or a workaround for the bodily sensations, the warm tears, the sadness, the laughter at good memories, or the gratitude of watching a large family grieve well and marveling at the privilege of being a part of it. At the same time, I don’t feel like I’m sinking, and I’m confident that this moment of suffering can be met with compassion for myself and others.

Practice

Take a moment to sit quietly and anchor yourself in your breath.

Reflect on your week.

Can you catch yourself being kind to you?

What did that kindness look like?

When you have noticed yourself moving from fixing to experiencing, what habits helped you make that shift?

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

Here in the northern hemisphere, we’re growing accustomed to an ever growing number of daylight hours. Christian communities who follow the Gregorian calendar are in the beginning of Holy Week, a time of intense and prayerful focus on the final days of Jesus’ life and transformation of death and defeat through resurrection.

I pray for a blessed Lent to our Orthodox Christian siblings, and for many blessings to those celebrating a variety of religious holidays and holy days, including Ramadan, Holi, and Purim.

As I engage deeply in my own practice, I offer here a reflection I penned on April 3, 2017 as that year’s solemn observance began. It is ended both as pondering and as an invitation to practice for those who are called to participate:

“Doing anything with single-mindedness is hard. Doing it for a week is harder. God’s invitation to us in the week ahead is an audacious one; “Give me a week and I will remake the world”. Contained within this promise is the equally powerful personal promise; “Give me a week and I will remake you.” Dwelling in the stories, songs, prayers and silences that made up the last week of Jesus’ earthly ministry is challenging, but it does something to us, it opens us to the possibility of resurrection in the Easter story and in our own lives.

Palm/Passion Sunday

The coming weekend reminds us of the highs and lows of the week. We sing hosanna (please save us!), we wave branches and we remember Jesus’ joyful entry into Jerusalem. We also remember how this triumph turned tragic as the politics of the day had no room for a leader named Jesus.

Holy Monday

Jesus wasn’t timid during his visit to the Holy City, after that grand parade he got busy chasing the moneychangers and animal dealers out of the courtyards of the Temple.

Holy Tuesday

Jesus is surprised by an extravagant gift of love. During a dinner at a friend’s house, a woman pours expensive perfume all of his head, anointing him for burial. His friends struggle with the apparent waste, but he urges them to be generous in all things and to see what lies ahead.

Holy Wednesday

Sometimes called Spy Wednesday, this is the day associated with Judas and his plot to turn over Jesus for 30 pieces of silver. What could someone get you to do for a month of wages?

Maundy Thursday

From Mandatum or command, this day recalls that Jesus instructed his friends during his final meal before his arrest. He commanded them to love one another, represented by the washing of feet. He commanded them to remember him with the special Supper that he celebrated that night.

Good Friday

We read the story of the passion and crucifixion, not to feel morally superior to Jesus’ tormentors, but to recognize ourselves in them and to see the mercy Jesus extends to them and to us. We reel in the sadness of the loss and cry out in desperation “Remember me when you come into you kingdom!”

Holy Saturday

A time for silence, for watching and waiting. A time to keep vigil in all the places where death claims to be the last word. A time to contemplate the depths that Christ would go to, knowing the despair of death after death, before revealing true life after death.

Easter Vigil

We emerge from our silence to remember stories of salvation, to listen for Good news, to welcome new siblings into the family of God, and to sing the first songs of praise in the night!

Easter Day

From sunrise to sunset, we marvel in the power of God to make a way where there is none and to bring life out of death. In our worship, our festivities and even the quiet dinner of leftovers Jesus is present.

I urge you to use this listing as a guide, even if you can’t gather with others during each step of the way, to reset your mindfulness of Jesus’ journey to the Cross and beyond each day. Take time to pause, read the passages in your bible, imagine each scene and soak in what it means when the shouts of “He is Risen” fall on your ears.”

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

One key function of prayer, meditation, and reflection time is a form of self-care that I like to call self-nurture. It’s the act of both attuning and attending to presenting needs and feelings the way that a caregiver does for another person. This can be especially important when puzzling over why we reacted or responded to the circumstances of our day in a way that feels “over-sized” for the actual experiences we encountered. What was happening outside of us probably began to dance with what is inside of us, our unspoken and sometimes even unacknowledged needs. Sometimes we can’t process the meaning of an experience, or begin to grasp where Divine Wisdom was unfolding in the space, because we have an unmet need, an unrealized sensation, or an incomplete physical or emotional response happening in response to what we have heard, seen, done, or had done to us.

Self-nurture takes practice and can feel unnecessarily self-indulgent, especially if we grew up in an environment where coping strategies like denying or minimizing our needs were prevalent. This can include realistic, yet unhelpful comparisons between the struggle or suffering of people in our lives. “I could have it so much worse” is a form of bypassing, which isn’t necessarily wrong, but it can be a form of deep alienation from what is actually happening inside of us.

Sometimes, we need to start small, with acts of attunement. Since transitory experiences, including self-awareness can quickly slip from consciousness and into our unconscious mind, there is value in having a tool at hand to begin this practice. I’ve pictured here a pocket sized notebook and pen, but truthfully, voice memos, evocative photographs, an email to ourselves, or any other tool that captures the moment of self-awareness can be helpful. The key is being able to re-encounter in brief form that “when I was doing A, I experienced emotions B & C, and it was accompanied by the bodily sensations of D, E, F.” For example, “giant Jenga set fell over with a loud sound, I was frightened, body tensed, heart raced, scanning for exits.”

As we explore this practice, it can be helpful to capture safe and reliable attunement tools for our toolbox, i.e. “this song helps me feel angry safely, this movie always makes me fall over laughing, this poem is great when I need to cry, etc.” These tools that help us move in the direction of a self-expression can be helpful when our attunement is a fuzzy approximation, or when we need to move towards attending, but aren’t sure how to help ourselves feel more richly or fully.

When attuning, via a self check, or processing with a trusting listener, becomes comfortable and natural, and we have a robust catalogue of both experiences we want to process and those that bring reliable outcomes, we can begin to think about attending.

Attending can be as simple as discharging stuck energy (going for a run when remembering something that makes us want to flee), actually feeling our feelings until the feeling of the tide going out and settling washes over us, or providing gentle and affirming touch to the part of our body that feels constricted, numb, tight, or buzzing. Sometimes our prayer response and practice changes, based on the spiritual medicine we need in that moment. In deep fear and anxiety, we may need to engage deep, slow breath and settle our bodies into the cradling arms of our Divine Parent. In deep sadness we may need to move our bodies and dance and weep all at once. This is why knowing what is going on is critical to trying to meet our need.

Our ability to attend to ourselves in merciful and nurturing ways depends on some amount of attuning to what is really going on. Is this pain emotional, physical, spiritual, or all of the above? Am I lonely, or hungry, or bored? Am I longing to laugh or cry, but need a permission giving nudge? What tools, resources, and relationships do we have to explore these questions?

Sometimes, we have a beloved caregiver in our past, and we can readily summon up the energy of this wise ancestor, imagining what they would do to care for us. Other times, we may struggle to call someone like this to mind. Here, let us rejoice that we have been made with marvelous imaginations. Perhaps we can borrow the energy of a beloved figure from sacred scripture or a well-loved story. There’s nothing wrong with saying to ourselves in this process, “today, I will care for me and invite myself to adventures the way that Frog does for Toad.”

Other times, we may struggle with naming any human relationship that has provided this deep care, and need to ask the Holy One if they will fill this role for us. We invite the Spirit to inspire us to attend to us, they way that the one who gives life and breath to the world might do. Here is faith, the very idea that in the vast and sacred expanse of this moment, all of the love and compassion of the entire cosmos are present to us. In the end, it really will be okay.

It can be so tempting to focus on self-discipline as the entire path to self-care. It is true that moving towards a vision of a new life requires concrete steps. This however, can become a distraction from knowing and loving ourselves precisely as we are now, with no further growth or change baked in. Take some time this week to practice attuning to yourself and your environment. What is actually happening, and how does that make your body and your soul feel?

Practice

In the weeks ahead, why not use one of the tools mentioned to begin your attunement toolbox. Think about and make note of the stimuli (art, movies, books, music, etc.) that regularly give you deeper access to your emotions (fear, anger, sadness, happiness, hurt, shock).

Take 3-4 minutes each day to check in with your body, noting the sensations, warm or cool areas, tight or loose areas, place where energy feels trapped. Scan slowly from head to toe and back. Offer yourself gentle and affirming touch where you notice tenderness or tightness.

Any time you feel that a sensation or emotion has arisen, peaked, and subsided, take time in prayer to give thanks for the amazing gift that is you and your body! Ask curious questions about what this information is trying to communicate.

If in your attuning, you come across an injury, a feeling of profound discomfort, or an unexpected thing that you were previously unaware of, give yourself gentle permission to seek help from a caring professional who is trained to care for that part of you.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef

Prayer doesn’t always look like words. Meditation doesn’t always look like soaking in something made by another person. Sometimes, the act of prayer is the spiritual practice of creating without judgment purely to express wonder and devotion. I had the good fortune to enjoy an incredible continuing education session this past week with Liza Hyatt, an art therapist and spiritual director. She reminded us of the power of arts and creativity to unlock our capacity to heal and to grow.

That session was very much in my mind when I gathered up the supplies for making a little portable Stations of the Cross, a devotional practice begun by Franciscans after they became the custodians of the Christian pilgrimage sites in the Holy Land. These artistic renderings of the Passion were meant to be an imaginative journey through Jerusalem during Jesus’ final hours. We were hosting my niece and it was time for some family art making, and I specifically chose to open myself to this particular project.

The fact that many Christians are observing Lent, that I just had a wonderful class on trauma healing through art, and that we were collectively taking time to create, are all kind of incidental to the project I chose.

I say this to offer encouragement, sometimes our creativity needs to be free play, with no objective in mind. Other times, it helps to have an end in mind to help spur our acts of creative mindful presence and contemplative awareness.

I have had the pens for at least a year. The colored pencils have been in my study for even longer. The artist cards are at least five years old. I bought the tins online almost three years ago. Inspiration doesn’t always lead directly into action, or even proper contemplation. Don’t despair of the prayer tools you have thoughtfully assembled and yet haven’t touched.

It’s true that they may need to be given away as a part of the spiritual housekeeping during this season. It’s also possible that they are ready to be transformed now, and therefore you’re being invited to pick them up and play. Discipline should bring peace and anchored energy, not be another source of dysregulating stress.

So it was that I began my journey along the little pocket pilgrimage. Many years after I imagined it. A few years after I gathered the supplies. At a time when it was the moment to be fully present to the beautiful dance that is making, even when the corners are wonky. or the tins need fussing to balance, or it seems that the work needs one more stroke, and then one more.

I’ve been so encouraged by this practice, that I look forward to slowly working my way through the set throughout this season. I can feel myself longing for the focus and the gentleness I experience while working on each piece.

I hope that you find ways to incorporate creativity and expression into your practice. Not as a commodity, or a product, but as the work of your body that brings more joy into the world, whether that comes through making or through some sort of embodied performance.

Practice

Take a moment to find something you have made (or a photograph/recording if it no longer exists).

Sit quietly and savor the goodness of bringing something into the world, whether witnessed by many, or only by you and the Divine.

Try to remember the sensations, emotions, thoughts that accompanied that moment of creation.

Savor those as well, and sit with them for as long as they last.

Offer a prayer of gratitude for your creativity before you leave this space.

Breathe deep, and be mindful of opportunities for creativity that come to you in the week ahead.

Be gentle with yourself, you are worth it.

Peace and Everything Good,

The Rev. JM Longworth, OEF Spiritual Direction and Trauma Care

https://www.sdicompanions.org/sdi-profile/GreenMtFriarOEF/ To book an appointment: https://calendly.com/greenmtfriaroef