A Resolution Worth Practicing

A sermon delivered at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation (Blacksburg, VA), December 31, 2006, by the Reverend Christine Brownlie.

Today is New Year’s Eve. A time for parties, for staying up too late to watch that giant glittering ball drop down into Times Square while the screaming crowd counts backwards from 10. It’s also a time for some quieter activities. Many of us will pause to look back and reflect on the year that’s past and contemplate the year to come. Some of us will think about the changes we might want to make in our daily habits and routines to make life a little better for ourselves and for people we love. We may vow to take better care of our bodies, or learn to keep a cork on our temper. We might resolve to go easy on the credit card, or to spend more time for family and friends.

I’ve noticed that as I make my annual plans for a new and improved me and all of the self improvement projects that will get me to my goal, I can’t ignore that little voice in my head that reminds me of all the resolutions I’ve made in years past. That little voice reminds me that my usual pattern is to get off track with my program and then give up.

Maybe you hear the little voice in your head saying something similar, and you too wonder if this year’s resolutions will really get you to the sort of life you truly long for. Could it be that tighter abs and a bank account are not really the keys to happiness? Are you open to pursuing a different path?

If your answer is “yes,” then I’d like to suggest that instead of making the usual resolutions about diets and tempers and managing your money, you consider taking up a spiritual practice, or renewing a practice that you’ve set aside.

Why? There are a number of benefits to such a discipline: a sense of physical and emotional well-being, a better connection to your own emotions and psyche, improved concentration and focus. In other words, taking up a spiritual practice might help you change some of those other nagging problems in your life.

If the word “spiritual” bothers you, then drop it or come up with another name that speaks to you. The point isn’t what you call whatever you decide to do; the point is that you find a practice that you like and that you practice it.

When most of us hear the words “spiritual practice,” we think of activities like prayer, meditation, fasting, or contemplating a religious text. You may have tried one of these traditional techniques and found that it worked for you, and now you’d like to broaden your practice. Perhaps you took up a traditional practice and it didn’t work for you. Now you’re longing for a sense of something more in your life and you’re not sure how to find it. You wonder what it is that defines a particular activity as a “spiritual practice. You may think that in order for an activity to qualify as a “spiritual practice,” you must hold a belief in God or in the soul. Perhaps you’ve been told that a spiritual practice will reveal the “transcendent core of all being,” and that makes no sense to you. It could be that such concerns — or something similar — have held you from exploring spiritual disciplines — even though they were intriguing.

If so, I’d like to put your concerns to rest by sharing some thoughts from my friend and colleague, Rev Barbara Cayman. In a sermon that she presented to the congregation of the Northwest Community Church of Houston, Barbara explained her concept of spirituality in these words:

“Spirituality is about connections, at three overlapping levels. First, it's about connections I feel within myself... how my various parts, my emotions, my reason, my physicality, communicate in making me aware that I'm alive, that I'm in tune with myself. Second, spirituality moves from myself to that which is not myself, to other humans, other living things, the earth. Spirituality is about being part of the interdependent web of all life, a web that we celebrate in the UU seventh principle. Finally, spirituality involves connections to the sacred, to the inexplicable mysteries of life.”

Barbara calls this inexplicable “God,” but you might choose to call it “truth,” or “the reality of impermanence,” or something else that resonates with your worldview.

She goes on to say that by exploring these three levels of connections, we can experience transformations that enable us to experience life in new ways, and so discover new layers in what it means to be human and in our relationship to others. This is what a spiritual practice can offer us.

These days, spiritual practices come in many different forms, from meditation to running. In the past couple of years, several new books have come out that address knitting as a form of spiritual practice. Thich Nhat Hahn has written about washing dishes as a spiritual practice.

It seems that these days, many ordinary activities can serve as spiritual practices. The key is that these activities allow us to calm the distracting chatter in our minds and to focus on our emotions, thoughts, and physical state as they are in the present moment.

It helps if we choose something that we can do on a regular schedule. It is important for us to enter our practice with intention and focus and an accepting spirit. It is also useful to reflect on our practice now and then to ensure that we are being faithful, and to note any changes or difficulties that we might otherwise ignore.

The accepting spirit is the key to staying with our practice. Accepting means that we avoid judgment of ourselves if we have not reached a goal that we set. In this compassionate spirit we are not harsh with ourselves because we have not been as regular and devoted to our practice as we think we should be. While we should be serious about maintaining our chosen practice, we shouldn’t be discouraged if it takes us a while to discover a practice that works for us. We might need to experiment with different types of practices before we find something that we look forward to and enjoy.

The Rev. Scott Alexander, who currently serves the UU congregation in Bethesda Maryland, published a book a few years ago named Everyday Spiritual Practice. Scott begins with the premise that common activities such as cooking, riding a bike, or gardening — or volunteering at the local elementary school — can become powerful spiritual practices that lead to the creation of connections and self-transformation.

He begins by offering five categories of spiritual practice: contemplation, creativity, body activities, relationships, and reaching out to others. He provides examples in each category and most, if not all, can be done in the context of daily life. Whatever you choose doesn’t have to be exotic or strenuous. You may decide that something as mundane as running the vacuum cleaner or folding clothes will become your spiritual activity. That’s fine.

Scott begins his exploration of practices with contemplation, and his examples include prayer, or meditation, or observing mindfulness. Another possibility, is setting aside a day — or part of a day — as a Sabbath. During this time, you let go of the demands of work and make time for reflection, relationships, and awakening to the pleasures of life.

These practices help us with the work of clearing the mind of anxiety and chatter, and they reduce stress and tension. They can make us more aware of the distractions and emotions that distort our lives. They can also smooth out the bumps in our daily routine. A few minutes of quiet, when we come home from work, can ease transitions from one part of our day to the next. These quiet times of reflection can remind us to express gratitude for the gifts of the day, connecting us to others in our lives and in the larger world.

The four remaining categories: creation, body activities, relationship and reaching out to others, push and expand our definitions spiritual practices. In the roster of creative activities, we find music, painting, sculpting, dance, quilting, and flower arranging. These activities awaken the spirit and bring us joy and energy, as we create new combinations and expressions from the raw materials of these arts. Again, the goal is not a product, but a greater awareness. What is important is to attend to whatever we are doing, with focused minds, and to suspend any judgment of the outcome. I’ve noticed that my own negative thoughts can create a sense of tension and judgment that will pull me out of the creative flow and cause me to feel frustrated and disappointed. When I can enjoy the process and maintain a sense of play and discovery, my practice is more likely to flow.

The second category of spiritual practice focuses on the body and our awareness of our physical being. If you are accustomed to more traditional practices, such as meditation, this might seem odd. These older practices encourage us to go beyond the body — or ignore it. But Scott, who is an avid cyclist, tells us that hiking, jogging, swimming, skiing, tennis, dancing, and other similar pursuits, can become spiritual practices. These activities provide time and focus that connect us more deeply with our bodies. Some have the additional benefit of connecting us with the wonders and beauty of the natural world, and with other people who share these activities with us.

As with any practice, it is important to be present in the moment, and to not worry about how fast or far you’re going or allowing your mind be someplace else.

Recently, I was walking along a path that followed a small stream. My thoughts were intent on some problem, and I was not paying attention to where I was. The loud sharp cry of a jay in a nearby tree broke into my thoughts and yanked me back to where my feet were planted. I blinked my eyes as I looked at the scenery all around me. I was astonished and captivated by the sunlight on the moving water, the patches of light and shade, by the soft grey clouds overhead, and by the gently winding stream bed filled with wet gleaming stones that disappeared around a bend, All these delights were there before me, lovely and timeless in that moment. I would have missed the wonder of that moment and that beauty, if not for alarm sounded by a raucous bird. I thanked it for the reminder.

A fourth category on Scott’s list of spiritual practices is work of the heart that cultivates compassion and strengthens our connections to those who share our lives: spouses and partners, children, parents, friends, and co-workers. As we face the busyness of each day and all that we have to do, we are challenged to be attentive, patient, compassionate, and giving. As we grieve for friends and loved ones when they are no longer present to in our lives, we see how easy it is to fool ourselves into believing that we can put them off until tomorrow — that magic day when we imagine that we will have time to spend with them.

I know that many of us struggle with the competing demands of our lives, and that we are often called away from the people we care about most. We ache to spend more time with them, and we feel sad and frustrated because we just can’t seem create more time in the day.

Perhaps we can turn this difficulty into a healing practice as we learn to be more present to others in the time that we can share. We can learn to listen deeply, to watch the facial expressions and body language mindfully and without judgment, so that we can respond in love and gentle appreciation.

This is much more than “quality time,” because we are asked not only to be present to others, but also to be present to ourselves and our responses to words and body language. This practice has taught me that I’m much too ready to assume that someone’s moods and expressions of emotion are a reaction to me, to something I’ve done or said. I’ve learned to monitor my assumptions, and to check them out as best I can before I take offense or worry that I’ve upset someone.

Finally, Alexander talks about outreach to others. We can practice compassion and connecting with others through our social justice work. As we work together on behalf of others, we become more aware of issues like racism or sexism or consumerism, or unnecessary war or abuse of the environment. We also develop a deeper understanding of the consequences of injustice and the price we all pay when oppression and discrimination are accepted without thought. We can practice this way of spirituality by volunteering at the blood bank, the free clinic, or the food pantry, playing the piano for a function at Heritage Hall or Warm Hearth, or working as a literacy volunteer. Our understanding of life — and perhaps our role in life — is stretched, and our ability to be compassionate grows.

For those of us who don’t like to separate our lives and activities into sacred and secular, it’s encouraging to realize that any daily activities — even the ones we dislike the most — can become a spiritual practices, if we approach them with intentionality and with love.

What this means to me is that everything we do offers the possibility of spiritual practice. Making the bed, doing the dishes, and taking out the garbage are opportunities for mindfulness, gratitude, and reflection. Over time, they can cause shifts in our thinking and our way of life.

Frederick and Mary Ann Brussat point out that you don't step on the path of practice for a few minutes a day, and then jump off to go about the rest of your life. They suggest that if you want to evaluate the health of your practice, observe how you behave during a breakfast disagreement with your partner in a traffic jam on the way to the airport. Notice your reaction to a homeless person begging for money, or to a joke that troubles your conscience because it is racist or homophobic. Again, the point is not judgment, but to be aware of our emotions and the words and actions that follow. Do we express our deepest values? Or do we choose to avoid the situation? What might we do the next time to be more in tune with our hearts and minds?

Your spiritual path may also heighten the joy and love that grace your life as you become more aware of the satisfaction you feel in a job well done, the elation that washes over you when you are reunited with someone you love at the end of the day, the gratitude you feel for your home, and the communion you experience in a circle of close friends.

If you feel ready to begin a practice, whether as an addition to another practice or as a new experiment, you might try something that addresses an issue in your life. In quiet moments, you might look at the roots of an issue, and consider what you might do to counter them. Knitting — or some other repetitive activity — might help grow your capacity for patience. Awakening your sense of gratitude throughout the day, might soften the desire for more material possessions. Taking time to read to a child — and allowing yourself to enter fully into that precious time — might heal some of the stress and worry that parents or grandparents often experience.

There are other benefits that can arise when you work with your own issues. By claiming your negative impulses — rather than denying them, you learn compassion for other people who also live with issues that cause them frustration and suffering. When you can face your own pain, you are less likely to project it upon others. Spiritual practices — such as compassion, justice, and accepting the mystery within every person — use your own personal suffering as a tool to strengthen you for the work healing of the world.

As UUs, we have the freedom to choose the practice or practices that work best for us, and to change them if that seems to be appropriate. As UU minister and Zen practitioner James Ford writes,

“Any authentic spirituality helps us integrate the inner and the outer, mind and heart, intellect and the emotions.”

The greatest danger we face is that we may walk away when the going gets tough, when we don’t know what to do, or when we don’t want to face the issues come up for us as a result of our practice. It can be tricky to know when we’re stuck and unwilling when dealing with something, or bored because we’re not practicing with mindfulness, or ready to explore something new. When this happens it can help to find someone who can listen to you and help you sort out your feelings. This may be just the opportunity to sit down with someone you trust and share your concerns with them. If you belong to a covenant group you might bring you concern to the group. In doing this, you may find that your problem is a common one and that others have helpful ideas to offer. (You might also find that ministers can be helpful in such situations.)

Today, as you prepare for whatever you will do to welcome the New Year, I urge you to take up a spiritual practice. Maybe you could begin with something very simple and yet very effective. Hold your hand under the faucet when you open the tap for the first time and feel the clean water rushing into your hand. As the water flows let it fill you with gratitude for this exquisite life-giving gift. Be faithful to this practice for a month, and see what happens. Perhaps your spirit has been dried up with thirst, and as you offer it attention and refreshment, it will unfold and grow in surprising ways.

May it be so.

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