Life on the material plane requires that we attend to the daily details of living, with all its problems and frustrations. Our worries and concerns are legitimate parts of life, but they can distort our vision. Consistent spiritual practice helps us see the deeper world beneath the material plane, nudging us away from fear and reactivity and reminding us of our true nature – wise, compassionate, and embedded in a larger field of being.
We all look at the world through a lens, a set of assumptions about how the world works. This is not a bad thing, it’s just how humans are built. Lenses help us make sense of our experiences and navigate our way, but they are never wholly objective. They are shaped by the events of life and color what we see.
Spending time each morning and evening in a period of reflection helps me examine and reshape my lens. Centering my reflection on a topic or question for the day brings focus and insight. Over the next two weeks, my Stumbling Mystic articles will describe a pair of bookend practices I sometimes use: Opening the Day and Closing the Day.
In the morning, I start by relaxing into my body. I spend way too much time in my head (it’s a nice place, but it’s overused and prone to runaway rumination). Grounding into my body shifts the way I see and reminds me that my body is more than a golf cart that carries my soul around, it’s an antenna receiving information if I attend to it properly.
Once I’m settled in the body, I often enter into dialogue with the Cosmos. For example, I might say, “Spirit, I’m here. I invite you to me. Help me open to the power of your presence. Today, I am like this (fill in the blank).” I reflect on my mood, my inner attitude, my feelings, my sense of self. I stay with this reflection long enough to touch something that feels true in the present moment. The listening quality of this exchange and the periods of silence are essential. It is not primarily a mental process, it’s a contemplative process. I look to see what guidance wants to present itself.
From this, I let a short phrase form that can act as a signpost for the day. What would I like to happen, how would I like to focus my attention, how will it inform my actions and emotions? I hold this phrase in my mind, I ask for support, and I express my gratitude.
For example, I might pick a phrase like, “I want to be more patient. Today, help me slow down and take things as they come.” I look to see how my body reacts as I say the phrase and let its energy sink into my bones. I try to revisit the phrase throughout the day and see how it applies to whatever I’m doing. If it seems useful, I might jot some ideas or insights in my journal.
You could label the phrase an intention or affirmation, but for me, it feels softer, more an inquiry than a declaration. The phrase serves as a prompt, not a to-do-list-item I strive to accomplish. A prompt acts as a maypole, a magnet, a mirror. It attracts what is ambient in my mind and brings it into a form I can recognize. I treat this as a discovery process, not an exercise in spiritual willpower.
Next week, I’ll describe how I reflect on the prompt at the end of the day. I’ll be giving special attention to the need to approach the practice without self-judgment. Spiritual practice takes courage. Hopefully, we approach it with curiosity, self-compassion, and a sense of adventure.
Photo by Stephen Ellis on Unsplash
So I read Closing The Day, prior to Opening The Day. I guess a true reflection of my behavioural style.
I do enjoy the use of the word prompt … a prompt that returns us to our Purpose. Why am I doing what I am doing? Is what I am doing aligned with my Purpose? What are the action steps that I need to take today that are aligned with my Purpose?
A prompt that leads us to reconnection with our higher self.
Thank you Judy. I like thinking of it as a prompt, so that it spurs my thinking. I also use the word “intention,” but that can seem too strong-willed sometimes.