Andrew- At the risk of a bad pun, we are all in the same boat (and in the same maelstrom). We do what we can as we can. One of the real benefits of having this discussion online is that we can hopefully help each other deepen our conceptions of what is possible and find practical ways to implement it. It is my contention that we need not…
At the risk of a bad pun, we are all in the same boat (and in the same maelstrom). We do what we can as we can. One of the real benefits of having this discussion online is that we can hopefully help each other deepen our conceptions of what is possible and find practical ways to implement it.
It is my contention that we need not only a deep intellectual understanding of the unprecedented vortex we are caught in; and we do need not only to find practical ways to start to depend on the megasystem less if we can; but the center of what we can do should be some form of silent prayer/meditation/contemplation. Any such practice, of course, is best done within a tradition and within a community of practitioners. That isn't always possible either, so again, we do the best we can.
The deeper we all go into all three elements, i.e., intellectual understanding, practical engagement with the world (and with simply being in the wilderness if possible), and contemplation, the more likely we will begin to come upon insights and ways of being in the world previously hidden from us. That is the hope.
To extend the nautical metaphor, this is an all-hands-on-deck moment.
I am glad you are here with us and part of this conversation. -Jack
Thanks Jack, a lovely, thoughtful response as always.
Amen to every word of that.
One of the key takeaways is very much to focus on what we can do, rather than allow ourselves to be downhearted, frustrated or even angry at what we cannot. I would love to be part of a community, but I have the additional dilemma of not knowing which one, at this early stage. I have to accept that.
Work and family commitments would also make it difficult logistically.
However, I am in a routine now where I pray and quietly contemplate for around 30 to 40 minutes twice a day and it has been of immense value, both physically and mentally. I am also learning to keep God at the forefront of my thoughts as I go through the day. Of course I drift, that's inevitable, but having little reminders around me help to bring focus back.
I'll end with a thought from St John of Kronstadt, which I picked up from The Orthodox Way:
"Prayer is a state of constant gratitude".
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware expanded on this:
"If I do not feel a sense of joy in God's creation, if I forget to offer the world back to God with thankfulness, I have advanced very little along the Way. I have not yet learned to be truly human. For it is only through thanksgiving that I can become myself. Joyful thanksgiving, so far from being escapist or sentimental, is on the contrary entirely realistic - but with the realism of one who sees the world in God, as the divine creation."
What a lovely explanation and one that I can relate to deeply.
It is also a joy to have you as a (virtual!) companion on this journey. Thanks Jack.
Andrew-
At the risk of a bad pun, we are all in the same boat (and in the same maelstrom). We do what we can as we can. One of the real benefits of having this discussion online is that we can hopefully help each other deepen our conceptions of what is possible and find practical ways to implement it.
It is my contention that we need not only a deep intellectual understanding of the unprecedented vortex we are caught in; and we do need not only to find practical ways to start to depend on the megasystem less if we can; but the center of what we can do should be some form of silent prayer/meditation/contemplation. Any such practice, of course, is best done within a tradition and within a community of practitioners. That isn't always possible either, so again, we do the best we can.
The deeper we all go into all three elements, i.e., intellectual understanding, practical engagement with the world (and with simply being in the wilderness if possible), and contemplation, the more likely we will begin to come upon insights and ways of being in the world previously hidden from us. That is the hope.
To extend the nautical metaphor, this is an all-hands-on-deck moment.
I am glad you are here with us and part of this conversation. -Jack
Thanks Jack, a lovely, thoughtful response as always.
Amen to every word of that.
One of the key takeaways is very much to focus on what we can do, rather than allow ourselves to be downhearted, frustrated or even angry at what we cannot. I would love to be part of a community, but I have the additional dilemma of not knowing which one, at this early stage. I have to accept that.
Work and family commitments would also make it difficult logistically.
However, I am in a routine now where I pray and quietly contemplate for around 30 to 40 minutes twice a day and it has been of immense value, both physically and mentally. I am also learning to keep God at the forefront of my thoughts as I go through the day. Of course I drift, that's inevitable, but having little reminders around me help to bring focus back.
I'll end with a thought from St John of Kronstadt, which I picked up from The Orthodox Way:
"Prayer is a state of constant gratitude".
Metropolitan Kallistos Ware expanded on this:
"If I do not feel a sense of joy in God's creation, if I forget to offer the world back to God with thankfulness, I have advanced very little along the Way. I have not yet learned to be truly human. For it is only through thanksgiving that I can become myself. Joyful thanksgiving, so far from being escapist or sentimental, is on the contrary entirely realistic - but with the realism of one who sees the world in God, as the divine creation."
What a lovely explanation and one that I can relate to deeply.
It is also a joy to have you as a (virtual!) companion on this journey. Thanks Jack.