Welcome to our Spirituality and Health Blog, where you post a quick note about our Monday and Wednesday class. It doesn’t have to be anything fancy or deep. Just take 2-3 minutes to share a 1-sentence thought, picture, or a striking quote you heard during our time together.
I really do not like to use the word “requirement.” Perhaps we could call this the sine qua non of the Spirituality and Health class. Post here at the end of every class as a NEW POST. By the end of the semester, you will be glad you did. 🙏🏾
I have been sitting with the experience of Julian’s meditation with immense gratitude. This week I meditated on water as a spiritual, healing element for a research paper on the spiritual care of Black girls during Flint, Michigan’s water crisis. Julian’s theme of the river as a safe space to release felt aligned with my interests in understanding the power of flow, ease, and surrender through the element of water. His message was the permission I needed to release the tension I have been holding inside. During his presentation, I cried, shouted, did yoga, and ended with a shower. It was an excellent class.
The adage that there is a sixth sense lives on because of some truth. In fact, we seem to strive to find new senses to describe that intangible yet ‘known thing’. Have we finally stumbled on that sense, the sense of the spirit in every atomic particle? This spirituality is subject to both the divine and the laws of nature (know and unknown). Today’s exercise didn’t overwhelm. It unleashed. It awakened. It drew forth and reframed. It was the very essence (spirit) of being like water, knowing the fluid. Knowing it will never hold the shape we think best or right. This is undefinable in so many ways.
Why is the wholeness approach to experiencing and living out faith so scary; so hunted? Maybe because we still seek a linear literal matter to cleave. But faith cannot be that one dimensional. It encompasses both our temple and our care to other’s temples. It requires both solitude and community. It transforms; it does not take stagnate shapes.
Creativity was not presented as a spiritual gift or experience until today. Now it will not go back into its place, it will not hold silent so that I can get to my homework or get through the nighttime routine. Now, I see it all around and I am beckoned to add, to help to listen.
During the “wellsprings” moment in class today, mourning was allowed to surface. I didn’t want to share because I didn’t know how to segway from excitement and peace, the present energy of the class, to gratitude for the ability to mourn. I do not see this as depressive; it, as stated, unleashed, freed, focused. I mourn for the state I call home and the need for the anger and hatred that fuel the average citizen through their day. I mourn for the wall ‘we’ cannot seem to tear down between and in ourselves despite an overwhelming populace that testifies in the name of Jesus. I mourn that I cannot reach out to those hurting without risking more fear and anger to wheel up in that person rather than being a balm because of a history my ancestors were not here to play a role in making. In mourning, there is a powerful and undeniable beauty. The moment everyone can see the beauty of a soul, of life; that light that shined forth. Reframed. There are more balms in Gilad than food or medicine. Maybe ‘we’ can start with soul songs of creativity.
Thank you for the lesson in water of the spirit.
What a beautiful and much needed class today. Julian’s gift of music ministered to the soul and provided the kind of contemplative atmosphere that I think we all crave but do not get enough of. I appreciated the way he guided us with Scripture and thoughtful questions; I came away feeling grateful.
My prayer to all:
Speak to our hearts God, then speak through us. For we know that you put ‘ear’ in the center of ‘heart’ to remind us of the heart/hearing connection. Help us to be wise and slow to judgment as we honor you by speaking what we have heard. If we are in doubt, help us to offer silence as the response. Amen!
It was a beautiful spiritual journey enabling me to meditate the passage alongside ineffable beautiful sounds. I’m grateful for the healing it provided.
“I love no verb is greater than the other!” Maybe that’s what I should call this
Busy he is—and martyr
Cut that shit out! Stop soaking up that praise and spreading it around.
Demonstrate health and balance—that’s how you lead people.
You feed ‘em
Nourish them & send them on THEIR way.
That’s the Gospel!
Not blessed be the busy. Blessed be those who are enough those who settle into their wholeness. The ones who quit looking for the missing puzzle piece
(psst…you kicked it under the couch in a flurry of striving)
Besides, you know what the picture is without it. Blessed be those whose vision fills the spaces.
I loved the imagery of water in todays class. I imagined my mind as a river clogged with a dam of debris. As Julian played the dam was loosened and the water began to flow again, first in a rush, then it settled into a smooth peaceful rhythm. As this image passed through my mind I was able to pick up my pen and start writing fiction again. I ha not even realized I had writers block.
#spirit #life #love
I was grateful to listen to Julian play. I used to improvise on the piano as a form of selfcare/spiritual practice, but I don’t have access in the way I used to. I enjoyed hearing the Taize song, “O Lord, Hear My Prayer.” It’s been too long.
Writing that came up for me during today’s class:
In March of 2020, we started walking. We walked in neighborhoods and parks. We walked dogs and strollers. We walked past wisteria and rosemary bushes. We walked past gardens and signs that said everything would be okay. We walked fast to escape and slow to match the heavy, heavy of our hearts.
At first, we walked for comfort. We walked for boredom. We walked for peace of mind.
But before we knew it, we were walking for justice. We walking for rage, walking with grief that ran down our cheeks and got caught on the cloth that hugged our faces.
My feet are tired, but I have a new habit of walking.