Why Risk?

“I have to risk writing, as  every spiritual writer does, and I must be willing to be judged wrong by others more intelligent, wiser, and holier than I ."— Richard Rohr, author of Yes, And… Daily Meditations.

For those of us who have discovered the intense, healing properties of writing, we can add that not doing it, when speaking of spiritual matters, is an infinitely more painful risk.

The spirit, as it goes about this embodied life, yearns to be heard. 

You feel it sometimes, don’t you?—that yearning? Something you can’t precisely define, but it’s there—stuck—in the core of your being. Maybe it’s a feeling of loneliness; maybe it feels like loss. 

But when it’s loosened, when it can dance— when it can sing and love without constriction or control—you know you’ve experienced something powerful. Something, maybe, that feels God-created. 

Divine.

And so you try to vocalize it, put it in words, and like Rohr says, you might get it very very wrong. But you know you have to try. You can’t keep it to yourself—the desire to share, the need, is too great—especially when you’ve gone through the suffering—

and came out of it, 

humbled. And feeling—yes!—so deeply loved. 

So let me be wrong. Let me be misunderstood. Let me jumble my thoughts and fumble my words. I step forward gently and with humility, but let me also let that go. Let me write honestly and courageously about my relationship with God, about experiential faith.

Faith in Form is my container. You’ll hear me speak about my practices—writing and reiki,  kundalini yoga and meditation, and my Christian faith. I’ll show you my poetry, my art. I agree to be vulnerable and I’m just asking that you hold the space.

If you’ve made it here, thank you. If you’re feeling inspired, or need inspiration, let me be here for you. Write with me, join my classes coming on Kajabi, share your story.

I leave you with this:

God gave us the Word.

Let’s engage with it. 

Every syllable. Every sound.

Notice where a consonant touches, how a vowel can reach.

 

Do it with me now. With NOW. N—O—W.

 

Notice the N on the top of your tongue pressing into 

the roof of your mouth, the way your jaw opens as 

the O begins its rounding — 

 

can you make it even wider? 

 

Can you play with the exhale, as if it were 

the wind? Or feel the depth of sound resonating 

throughout your torso?  

 

Notice, N-O-W

 

how the vowel closes in on itself, 

how the lips purse and the W forms.

Do you notice how sound ceases? How lips barely touch?

 

Play with the sounds. Feel where the word lands. 

How it lands.

Now. N-O-W. Now.

 

What does NOW mean to you?

For Thought:

Yoga Sutra 1.1 Atha yogānuśāsanam

Now, the instruction of yoga

Atha. (A-ta) Now…

Yoga: union

Now, we begin union

Luke 17:20-21 “…Jesus replied, “The kingdom of God does not  come with observable signs; nor will people say, ‘here it is!’ or ‘there it is!’ For you see, the kingdom of God in your midst.”

Within you. Here. Now. 

Flow Writing Exercise: 

Let’s repeat the exercise above and go into a flow-writing exercise, keeping the pen moving without editing or pause. The rules of writing do not matter here. Don’t judge yourself or the process.

• +Have a notebook and pen nearby. 
• +Sit, feet flat on the ground, hands on your lap. Spine elongated, neck strait, eyes closed. 
• + Begin with long slow breathing and then recite NOW as if it is a mantra, just as you did above, playing with the sound and feeling where it lands in your body. Do this for several minutes. Concentrate solely on the sounds and the body, not thoughts of what Now might be, or was. Let all thoughts go; focus on the sound of Mantra.
• + When you feel ready to write, begin. Write for 3-5 minutes without pausing, let “Now” come to you, coming through the body. Keep the pen moving. 
• + When questions come up write them down. If you’re having trouble or need to pause, just write:   

Now, I am.  

 Now, I am. 

 I am Now. 

Peace & Love,

Jackie