The Beauty of the Moon You could say the United States won the race to the moon. During the 1960s and 70s, NASA sent seven manned ships up there. In total, twelve Americans disembarked and prowled the lunar surface. By all accounts, the experience was incredible. Centuries of dust plumed up, obscuring their vision as they landed and coating their suits and equipment. As they gazed about them during the bright moon day, the unremitting gray appeared almost white. Mountains swept high against the curved horizon, volcanic lava glistened, and unusual shapes mystified them. Glassy beads and gems sparkled at their feet. A deep soundlessness filled the air. And in…
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Creating Ourselves
Losing the Self In my work as a chaplain, I have more than once borne witness to the agony of young adults losing their minds to psychosis. At times, they are convinced nothing is wrong, that the voices, the confused thoughts, the threatening visions are more real than the professionals who would deny their truth. This does not mean these young people are content. Living with someone else’s words in your head can be disconcerting, and also terrifying. If you do realize that the person you call “myself” is slipping away, it can be even more terrifying. How heartbreaking to become your own stranger. One moment, we are trusting in…
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The Promise of Psilocybin
A Community Journey Using psychedelics for spiritual enlightenment and emotional healing has a long history among human beings. The practice is tied to rituals designed to open our hearts to the whole, to bind our souls to the holy. Cultures of old understood that we and the earth are one. We are not something set apart, not the pinnacle of some creative scheme devised by a humanoid deity. Along with the whale, the cockroach, the rose, the coronavirus, the sea anemone, the many kinds of mosquitoes, we are one of life’s creatures. Together, we are bound, flying through this universe that is sacred and eternally old. When our minds open…
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The Shadow Side of Gratitude
Grateful to Be Alive What a thing it is to be alive, to see the many shades of the sky, feel the softness of the moss, listen to the wind rustle the leaves. Even to know the sharp stab of loss is a gift, because the pain means we’ve known love. In the face of disaster and death, we can still be grateful for having lived. When we are grateful, we feel better. It’s true that we all struggle with something. Life wounds us. We have limitations. Maybe we’re blind, or lonely, or have lost limbs. Yet we can still be grateful for whatever senses we do have, for the…
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Finding Peace in the Dark
The End of Night On this pre-dawn November morning, not even the moon shines through the cloud-dense sky. Yet it’s not quite dark. Patches of the trail are lit by streetlamps, and even where it’s not, the ambient light makes puddles shimmer, and the path is, if not clear, at least visible. In the city, we never experience true dark. At least not when we’re outside. Some twenty-five years ago, in Port Townsend, I stared in wonder at a brilliant sky lit up with a carpet of stars, for I hadn’t seen such a thing since childhood. In Portland, where I lived, the skies had long been dimmed by the…
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Shame, Shamelessness, and the Parson
Shame, Shamelessness, and Narcissism Shame sometimes looks like its opposite. When our shame becomes unbearable, it twists into an intractable shamelessness. Then we can hurt others without remorse. Unless something stokes our pride or satisfies our lust, it means nothing to us. When we are shameless, no consequence society can enforce will affect us. No matter how ferocious or ingenious, punishments cannot squeeze remorse from an indifferent heart. Catcalls, beatings, imprisonment, banishment might sting, but only those who entertain the possibility that they have done wrong will be moved to change. The shameless feel offended by chastisement. They see themselves as victims. Thus, they defend themselves from condemnation by condemning…
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Coming Home to Ourselves
We Can’t Go Home To be a hero, at least in myth and fairy tale, we must leave home. Maybe we set off to right a wrong, vanquish a monster, save a loved one from a witch’s spell, find our fortune. In the stories, no adventure or peril is too great for us. The deed will be done. On the way, as we spar with giants, beat at windmills, turn the river from its course, melt the witch, we change. Hopefully, by the time we end up back home, we are wiser, more true to ourselves. Yet we are not who we once were. That’s one reason, of course, that…
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Help for the Journey
Heavenly Music In her anthology of folk tales, Jane Yolen retells a story about the youngest son of the King of Ireland, who wins a maiden and half his father’s kingdom. [1] In some ways, it’s like many youngest child tales in that he is victorious where his older brothers are not. Unlike most such stories, however, once he sets off on his quest, everything he needs is handed to him. It seems that the King of Ireland had three sons, Neart, Ceart, and Art. The youngest, Art, was his favorite. As might be expected, the older boys were jealous. One day, a strange singing began to be heard throughout…
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Clinging to Control and Freedom from Fear
Our Instinct to Survive and Our Need to Control At last week’s recovery church meeting we discussed a quote from Francis Weller about the shadow times, the periods when we feel afraid and vulnerable, when it seems we have fallen down into the depths. We don’t like those times, of course, yet Weller reminds us that “down is holy ground.” [1] During those moments of struggle, when our assumptions and our defenses are shattered, we have the opportunity to become free. This is a good thing. So why do we try so hard to avoid pain? Are we so desperate to feel safe? Most of us are. After all, we…
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Listening to Ourselves
Starting Where We Are At the Universalist Recovery Church, we’ve been exploring different aspects of listening. For instance, when we listen deeply to one another, we provide each other a gift. We see, and we are seen; hear and are heard. That, by itself, can be healing. Listening to ourselves can be just as healing. But many people find it easier to listen to the stories, fears, and hopes of others than to pay attention to their own. When we hear what’s going on inside us, we can feel embarrassed or afraid. How, then, do we listen to ourselves without flinching? Where do we begin? According to the Buddhist teacher,…