Day 15 - #13

"Favor and disgrace are equally problematic.
Hope and fear are phantoms of the body.

What does it mean that 'favor and disgrace
are equally problematic'?
Favor lifts you up; disgrace knocks you down.
Either one depends on the opinions of others and
causes you to depart from your center.

What does it mean that 'hope and fear are
phantoms of the body'?
When you regard your body as your self,
hope and fear have real power over you.
If you abandon the notion of body as self,
hope and fear cannot touch you.

Know the universe as your self, and
you can live absolutely anywhere in comfort.
Love the world as your self, and
you'll be able to care for it properly."

St. Paul says die to the flesh and live in the spirit; this is all well and good--but to be disabled in this world is to be defined by your flesh, by what your body can, and especially cannot, do. To be trapped between these two phantoms is to live in pain and terror.

Maybe that's why I sought the world as I did, I mean by traveling. To free my body so I could find my life in the spirit. Back again, I struggle with what I say, with what others say to me. I try to listen for God, but all I hear is the mocking voice of disgrace. It tries to feed me to the phantom of fear.

Hope holds them back, it's true, but then favor, that smug demon, smiling, dares my head, my self, to get too big.

In the center of myself, I am worthy--but to Whom? Only to Him Who was here before the world was made.

Day 14 - #36

"What is ultimately to be reduced
must first be expanded.
What is ultimately to be weakened
must first be made strong.
What is ultimately to be discarded
must first be embraced.
What is ultimately to be taken away
must first be given.
This is called subtle insight.

The soft overcomes the hard.
The weak overcomes the strong.
The Tao should never be abandoned.
Weapons should never be displayed."

I think this is what must be called healing, too. A sore must fester before it can run. A heavy load must sag upon the shoulders of its carrier. My softness can make me whole. My weakness can make me new. The first step is to, as I read somewhere else, "lay down my sword in the battle against myself."

Day 13 - #22

"Allow yourself to yield, and
you can stay centered.
Allow yourself to bend, and
you can stay straight.
Allow yourself to be empty, and
you'll get filled up.
Allow yourself to be exhausted, and
you'll be renewed.

Having little, you can receive much.
Having much, you'll just become confused.

Therefore the sage embraces the oneness
and becomes a pattern for the whole world.
She doesn't display herself,
so she becomes illuminated.
She doesn't justify herself,
so she becomes distinguished.
She doesn't boast,
so she is recognized.
She doesn't claim credit,
so she advances and endures.
She doesn't contend,
so no one can contend with her.

'Yield and you can stay centered'--
Is this saying meaningless?
Stay whole, and all things return to you."

What does it mean to have a lot? Materially, I've rarely suffered; spiritually, often and exceedingly. I was in college when I learned to name my mental anguish, in adulthood when I learned just how--now--I've let my thoughts and feelings be disturbed by fears of what might happen. If I can yield to the peace of the present moment only--then, I will have everything.

Day 12 - #23

"Nature is sparing with speech:
a whirlwind doesn't last all morning,
a rain shower doesn't last all day.

What causes these? Heaven and earth.
If heaven and earth can't make something
furious endure, how could man?

Concentrate on Tao and you'll experience Tao.
Concentrate on power and you'll experience power.
Concentrate on loss and you'll experience loss.

If you won't trust, you won't be trusted."

If I make an idol of my loss, I never will lose it.
If I make an idol of motherhood, I never will gain it.
If I make an idol of love, I never will feel it.
If I make an idol of feelings, I never will sense my center.

If I never sense my center, I never will come before God.
If I never come before God, I will hide in my pain.

If I hide in my pain, I never will feel His healing touch.

I wonder sometimes if I make an idol out of everything.

His healing touch is my desire and my fear. But I don't live my life by this desire, this fear; they live, they coexist within me. They wail from my heart, and all I can do is listen, and wait, and trust. Even when it hurts.

All the pain is just another step toward God.

Day 11 - #38

"A truly good person doesn't dwell on her goodness.
Thus she can be truly good.
A person of false goodness never forgets her
goodness.
Thus her goodness is always false.

A truly good person does nothing,
yet nothing remains undone.
A person of false goodness is forever doing,
yet everything remains forever undone.

Those who are interested in service act
without motive.
Those who are interested in righteousness
act with motives of all sorts.
This who are interested in propriety act
and receiving no response, they roll up
their sleeves and use force.

When Tao is lost, goodness appears.
When goodness is lost, philanthropy appears.
When philanthropy is lost, justice appears.
When justice is lost, only etiquette is left.

Etiquette is the faintest husk of real loyalty
and faith, and it is the beginning of confusion.
Knowledge of the future is only a blossom of Tao;
to become preoccupied with it is folly.

Thus the sage sets her sights on the substance
and not the surface, on the fruit and
not the flower.
Leaving the one, she gains the other."

In therapy years ago, I talked about my longing. "What I'm not hearing," my therapist said in thoughtful response, "is the 'cookie cutter' wedding dream. That's good."

I knew then I wanted something good, something right. As anxious about the future as I had let myself become--then, as now--I couldn't be preoccupied with details. I had let go of those as my father lay dying in the hospital--one mad flight of fancy to end all my dreams. Dad giving me away in a suit--Dad never wore suits--and a red tie, whirling me around the dance floor. I almost could smell the orange blossoms in my veil. One last flight of fancy before death became mine for a lifetime.

At 13 I had lost the will to dream of the future. As a grown-up I've struggled with the courage to ask for love. It all still seems like too much--too much to ask and hope for.

Day 10 - #14

"Looked at but not seen,
listened to but not heard,
grasped for but not held,
formless, soundless, intangible:
the Tao resists analysis and
defies comprehension.

Its rising is not about light,
its setting is not a matter of darkness.
Unnameable, unending,
emerging continually, and
continually pouring back into nothingness,
it is formless form, unseeable image,
elusive evasive unimaginable mystery.

Confront it, and you won't see its face.
Follow it, and you can't find an end.
Perceive its ancient subtle heart, however,
and you become master of the moment.
Know what came before time,
and the beginning of wisdom is yours."

It's my own understanding I battle with, my own inner voices snarling against the light. None but the Everlasting Arms could have held me up through this fight so long.

I die of gratitude.

Day 9 - #35

"Stay centered in the Tao and the world
comes to you:
Comes, and isn't harmed;
Comes, and finds contentment.

Most travelers are drawn to music and good food.
When Tao is talked about, the words can seem
bland and flavorless.

Looked at, it might not catch the eye.
Listened to, it might not seduce the ear.
Used, it can never be exhausted."

Exhausted, I fly between hopelessness and dread. I wonder what the future holds. I think I know, and all I see is loss. It feels selfish and vain to hope for something more, yet how could there be less?

I was on a retreat once. The leader, praying, said, "You are not a God of disappointment."

I've wondered since then how I could escape this sense that God is disappointed in me, as I wander ashamed through the darkness, afraid to hope for anything.

My heart is in tatters of loss. It's all I know, all I figured I ever would know, and yet I persevere. I will not give up, though there is pain with every step. I won't give in.

I wonder
I fear
I dread
I dream
I hide
I hold back
I hurt

How can I hold on, except by God's grace?

My heart aches for everything, and nothing, too.

Day 8 - #33

"Knowing others is intelligence;
knowing the self is enlightenment.
Conquering others is power;
conquering the self is strength.

Know what is enough, and you'll be rich.
Persevere, and you'll develop a will.
Remain in the center, and you'll always
be at home.
Die without dying, and you'll endure forever."

To know self and to die to self--the impossible dichotomy of faith.
To know self and to let go of self means room to grow.

Free your self for what is enough.

Day 7 - #26

"Heaviness is the root of lightness.
Tranquility is the root of agitation.

That is why the sage travels all day
without ever losing sight of her baggage.
She may live in a glorious palace, but
she isn't attached to its pleasures.

Why should the lord of ten thousand chariots
behave lightly in the world?
One who acts lightly loses her foundation.
One who becomes agitated sacrifices her mastery."

I heard a sermon once, about St. John Vianney, patron saint of parish priests. Apparently he was, by all accounts, stupid. He almost failed in his studies struggling to learn the Latin and Greek and whatever else would be required of him to fulfill his role as curate. But, as the priest said then, "He knew the theology because it was in his heart."

Since that time I often have reflected on this: How, as another speaker once said, "the desire for God is written in the human heart." How stupid I have felt, as I struggle still to internalize the lessons my life of faith has taught me! Not willing to trust that my own treasure already is there inside me. In my stupidity, I only have buried it deeper, tried to hide it under my obsessions, my worries, my fear, my pain.

When faced with the true love and mercy of God, how fragile indeed is the mantle of oppression and hate.

Day 6 - #55

"She who is filled with goodness
is like a newborn child:
wasps and snakes will not bite it,
fierce beasts will not attack it,
birds of prey will not pounce on it.

Its bones are soft and its muscles weak,
but its grip is firm.
It hasn't yet known the union of male and female,
yet its organ stirs with vitality.
It can howl all day without becoming hoarse,
so perfect is its harmony.

To know harmony is to know the eternal.
To know the eternal is to be illuminated.

Prolonging life is not harmonious.
Coercing the breath is unnatural.
Things which are overdeveloped must decay.
All this is contrary to Tao, and whatever
is contrary to Tao soon ceases to be."

How can I begin to understand all that is good within me? For so long I let myself believe it all bad, all wasteful and self-indulgent. Instead I find this desire within me pure and holy and good. Best of all, there is someone else who sees and embraces that as well, hard as I still strain to disbelieve it.

Hard to hear the harmony--
above the clangor of my grief--
Like a wave breaking on a new
and untouched shore.

I finally know--
untouched does not mean
unloved.
unexplored does not mean
unknowable.
untapped does not mean
unreachable.

I reach
I love
I grow

I believe

Day 5 - #56

"Those who know don't talk.
Those who talk don't know.

Close your mouth.
Block the door.
Quiet your senses.
Blunt the sharpness.
Untie the tangles.
Soften the brightness.
Be one with the dust,
and enter the primal oneness.

One who has merged with Tao in this way
can't be courted,
can't be bought,
can't be harmed,
can't be honored,
can't be humiliated.
He is the treasure of the world."

So I was praying the other day, about my longing for a child. As I so often do. As I've been so scared to do. So ashamed.

Jesus came to me in his crown of thorns, as he often does. Bloody face, flooding eyes. He put His finger to my lips, His ear to my womb. Listen. Don't speak.

Then the risen Christ, white robe and all, clean--made new--arose from where I lay, from where His ear had been. Clean face, clean hair, smiling eyes. Rays of mercy from His hands, from my core.

Day 4 - #24

"A man who tiptoes can't stand.
A man who straddles can't walk.
A man who shows off can't shine.

A man who justifies his actions isn't respected.
A man who boasts of his achievements has no merit.
A man who brags will not endure.

To a person of Tao, these things are
excess food and superfluous behavior.
Because nothing good can come of them,
he doesn't indulge in them."

I, who always felt I had nothing to boast of--I overcompensated. I let myself become small. Perhaps in a way this is good, but what I mean is, I was almost ready to let my light go out. Too many times, I tiptoed. I tried not to shine. I hid. I let myself lie to myself. And then I started to believe the lies:

You can't be loved.
You can't have life.
You know bad things--only bad things.
You do bad things--the good things never will outlast.
You are bad--you deserve to die.

The worst was when I started to think
God wanted it all, too.

I never thought spiritual attack was real, until I couldn't outrun it anymore.
Facing it alone has been exhausting, but I will keep on.
I will win. If I keep being honest, I will win.

I will not tiptoe; I will stride.
I will not straddle; I will leap.
I will not show off; I will show up.

I will respect (myself)
I will endure

I will mature
I will believe (again)
I will hope (and trust and pray)
I will love (and live to be.)

I will give life.
I will ache, I will grow
I will know: joy, peace,
deep trust, deep hope, deep faith, deep knowing, deep longing.

fun healing wonder horror more
than I can say here             more
than I can share                  more
than I can have now or ever.

That's why I try to hold it lightly now - let go so I can
let myself be.

Day 3 - #39

"From ancient times these have attained
oneness with Tao:
Heaven attained oneness and became clear.
Earth attained oneness and became peaceful.
Spirits attained oneness and became strong.
Valleys attained oneness and became full.
Beings attained oneness and became fertile.
Sages attained oneness and became whole.
All are what they are by virtue of oneness.

Heaven without clarity would fall.
Earth without peace would explode.
Spirits without strength would dissipate.
Valleys without fullness would dry up.
Beings without fertility would die off.
Sages without wholeness would stumble.

Humility is the root of greatness.
Those in high positions do well to think of
themselves as powerless, small, and unworthy.
Isn't this taking humility for the root?

Attain honor without being honored.
Don't shine like jade, or chime like bells."

How can I find my fertility? Wanting a child, or children, for so long, I struggled to repudiate that desire within myself, ashamed and afraid lest it shouldn't manifest. There were so many things in my way; there always have been, most of all myself. Now I'm struggling to trust that they, that I, will be lifted. That there is--that there will be--a future beyond my pain and losses. I would go through anything to protect and love my child. I would do nothing to stay where I am now. I do everything to trust and persevere. My hope is my jade; my hope is my bells. I have done too much--lived too much--not to see and hear. It hurts to keep my heart open in order to look and listen. I'm afraid of being overwhelmed by my desire that lives in such fertile quiet. I'm straining to find it, and yet I must trust that I'm being led into it. There is no time and space to be humble if I'm still running.

I try not to run from the noise and the light, but I fear my body's betrayal. I fear the lack of fulfillment. I fear disordered desire. The fear never will make me one. I let the fear break my heart for so long...What will I do if it breaks my soul?

What will bring my heart to one?

What will bring my soul to peace and everlasting hope? I don't run from it; it runs from me. Or so I feel it's beyond my ken. What is the purpose of this pain I feel? What can I do with my hope in the face of it? I get tempted to throw it away. But what then? I would rend myself irreparably. And I would use that rending to justify my hurt and sadness.

That's not humble. That's not hopeful. That's not one.

Where is my son? Where is my daughter? Where is my whole heart?

Day 2 - #41

"When a wise person hears Tao,
he practices it diligently.
When an average person hears Tao,
he practices it sometimes,
and just as often ignores it.
When an inferior person hears Tao,
he roars with laughter.
If he didn't laugh, it wouldn't be Tao.

Thus the age-old sayings:
The way to illumination appears dark.
The way that advances appears to retreat.
The way that is easy appears to be hard.
The highest virtue appears empty.
The purest goodness appears soiled.
The most profound creativity appears fallow.
The strongest power appears weak.
The most genuine appears unreal.
The greatest space has no corners.
The greatest talent matures slowly.
The greatest voice can't be heard.
The greatest image can't be seen.

Tao is hidden and has no name.
Tao alone nourishes and fulfills all things."

My illumination came out of this:

My father, lying on the table in the hospital, eyes and mouth half open, filmed over, not breathing. "His spirit is still in that room," my mother said. What did I know about that then? When all of a sudden life forces you to believe something you've never been confronted with before.

Not two days after Robin Williams's death, I heard about a friend's suicide attempt. He survived, thank God.

Even I'd thought about it from time to time. Imagined it so deeply my heart seemed to stop. Wondered about my weapon of choice. Once I went through the motions with a knife, sawing back and forth as it descended through the air to raise the barest scratches on my arm.

I always thought I was just too chicken. But my illumination came out of this:

Staring death in the face and knowing, I'm not ready to go there yet.

Day 1 - #43

"The soft overcomes the hard in the world
as a gentle rider controls a galloping horse.

That without substance can penetrate where
there is no space.

By these I know the benefit of non-action.
Teaching without words, working without actions--
nothing in the world can compare with them."

I heard a friend yesterday say that infinite patience is the quickest way to enlightenment. Everyone who knows me knows I am a very patient woman, but infinitely? Even I've got a long way to go, and lately I've been feeling pushed to the limits of my patience.

Patience is how I learned to live in a body that usually doesn't do what I ask it to do.

Patience is how I learned to look for and see the right opportunities for me.

Patience is how I learned to love, and how I have the strength to continue to love even when people are difficult and dangerous and dishonest.

I'm 33 years old and still waiting. How did this happen? I suppose we always are waiting for something.

How have I learned to be soft without being pliable?

How have I learned to be invisible without being forgotten? For "to penetrate where there is no space," is the essence of being a disabled person in this world. You learn to make a subtle smash-and-grab for your life so that by the time anybody notices you've done anything--too late!--you're already somebody's inspiration porn.

Yesterday at Mass the priest talked about how Mary is working to bring about the reign of her Immaculate Heart in this world. She can't do it without us, he said. But when you feel like you are built for the world--and even God--to ignore you, how are you supposed to "bring the Kingdom"?

I never wanted attention. I only ever wanted love. I was prepared to give love in softness, yet so unprepared for how hard the world would be in return. Maybe that's why I'm as old as Jesus was, and still waiting.

I want to penetrate the future with the substance of things hoped for--nothing more.