"Innocence is a child with a snake..."

"Were you a blazing ball of fire
before you were ever born
Did you find the cure for polio?
Invent the telephone?
Or were you disobedient at
the age of thirty-three
When some old Roman soldier
had you nailed up to a tree?

Maybe you were black and tired,
on the front seat of a bus,
Or on a protest march in Bombay
lying face down in the dust.
Maybe you were all of this and more,
Borrowed light from those who came before.

And the children who haven't yet been named
are stronger for your spark,
Stronger for your flame…"

- Randall Williams
from "Praying for Land"

This week's Bible study is begging me to repost this snake story....with Love:

"Nice snake..."

I absolutely Randall William's, "Stronger for Your Flame," (the song starts at 1:40), and when I hear it I am reminded of a poem that has been a longtime...but missing-in-action...companion. Until yesterday, that is.  My copy of this 1990 Godfrey John poem found its way back into my hands.  I originally discovered it in the Christian Science Monitor one morning almost twenty years ago, and it became my touchstone through a very difficult period. 

Someone I loved and respected for his devotion to public service was being maligned, vilified, and treated with disdisdain, after decades of admiration and trust.  I was heartbroken…but he wasn't.  His spiritual poise seemed untouched…unshakable.  When we spoke on the phone, or met in person I was always stunned by his grace...his simple, unflappable grace. 

And because we were friends, my integrity (and that of his other friends) had also been called into question. And it felt awful.   I finally had the courage to phone him.  I was hungry for some direction about how I could proceed in correcting the impositions.  He calmly and joyfully asked me if I knew my own truth.  I responded that yes, I did. I was certain that I had done nothing wrong.  I knew that my motives at every juncture had been pure. And that even though, in hindsight, I might have taken different steps today, I was absolutely sure that I had been honest, prayerful, and humble in asking for divine guidance, at the time. 

He then turned me to a story Mary Baker Eddy relates in the article "Taking Offense" from her book, Miscellaneous Writings 1883 – 1896: 

"A courtier told Constantine that a mob had broken the head of
his statue with stones.  The emperor lifted his hands to his head,
saying: "It is very surprising, but I don't feel hurt in the least."

He then shared with me that "you are not there."  You are not "who" they are throwing stones at.  They are attacking their own concept of the office you occupy…healer, director, mother…they are throwing stones at a version of that office that they are holding in consciousness that they don't like.  But only you know if that is you…and if it is…it is only between you and God to correct it.  If it is not you…then you can't feel hurt in the least.  You do not live in their consciousness of you...you live in your consciousness...and you must ask yourself who is the source of your consciousness of you...and of them.

"So what should I do when I see them, think of them, or are told stories about what they are saying?" I asked.   I could hear his silent smile through the phone as he sighed,  "Why, what else is there to do….you love them…truly love them."

This set me back on my heels.  Wasn't I supposed to defend him, me…all of us?

Then he reminded me of how Mary Baker Eddy follows up her story about about Constantine and the mob, she says:

"We should remember that the world is wide;
that there are a thousand million different human wills,
opinions, ambitions, tastes, and loves; that each person
has a different history, constitution, culture, character,
from all the rest; that human life is the work, the play,
the ceaseless action and reaction upon each other of
these different atoms. 

Then, we should go forth into lifewith the smallest
expectations, but with the largest patience; with a
keen relish for and appreciation of everything beautiful,
great, and good, but with a temper so genial that the
friction of the world shall not wear upon our sensibilities;
with an equanimity so settled that no passing breath
nor accidental disturbance shall agitate or ruffle it;
with a charity broad enough to cover the whole world's evil,
and sweet enough to neutralize what is bitter in it,
--determined not to be offended when no wrong is meant,
nor even when it is, unless the offense be against God.

Nothing short of our own errors should offend us."

(There is more, but for the purpose of this piece, I would like to stop here with that statement. )

These statements became a staff and a rod for me over the ensuing months.  A staff to lean on and a rod prodding me forward towards greater understanding, humility, grace.   However I am a visual person.  I love mental pictures to connect with as I exercise new spiritual muscles.  The Constantine story was wearing thin…I needed something fresh, something I could identify with.  I just didn't feel like an emperor and the image of a mob scared me.

That was when Godfrey John's poem appeared on my doorstep wrapped in newsprint. 

Here it is:

"Nice Snake"
(Note from poet:  This poem is spun from a story
I was told of an actual little girl in South Africa)

Slowly and with no mistake
the giant snake is inching up
the veranda where the five year old
sits, joyfully sloshing her cereal

As if planned and without noise,
the boa constrictor guiltlessly
encircles the chair and the child in his coils.

He lets his eyes come close to hers.
"Nice snake!" she says, lifting
a spoonful of milk up to his mouth.

He feels excused.  He sips the milk.
She lifts the spoon to her own lips.
His innocence coincides
with hers.  Valued now, he waits.

She feeds him again with special care
"One for you and one for me."
Suddenly he dips his mouth
deep into the bowl.  The child
taps his head with her spoon and laughs:
"Naughty, naughty!  Wait your turn!"

The boa constrictor meekly places
his scaled face against her cheek.
Repentance is responsive to love.

Once again she lifts her spoon
full of light.  His lips sip.
They take turns till the bowl is empty.

Unhurriedly, then, he uncoils
and slides beneath the veranda steps.

We must de-mythologize.

Innocence can not be earned:
innocence is immanent;
innocence is untouched
by guilt or hurt or old age.

Innocence
is a child with a snake and a bowl of cereal –
astonishing the day,
celebrating art.

- Godfrey John

I connected with this poem on such a deep level…I had just been to Africa, I had seen snakes, I knew the way they were feared.  I had a little girl who was fearless when it came to snakes, and bugs, and growling dogs…I wanted to be like her.

This poem became a space I lived in.  It became my posture in loving.  I was willing to share my cereal, but I was also clear about identifying my tablemate as eager to share too. It also helped me to understand my friend's spiritual poise…his unshakable dignity, grace and compassion.

This poem was my companion.  In fact it was such a priceless treasure, that we gave it as a gift to our friends in our Christmas cards that year.  More than one asked if the little girl in the poem was our South African daughter…it was not.

Through my many moves since then I had misplaced my original copy of the poem and would often try to recall those words I had memorized twenty years earlier.  I would have a strong grip on ten or twelve lines and then miss a word and not be able to find the rhythm again.  I had been thinking about it a lot over the last year or so and had on a number of occasions searched folders full of scrips and scraps of quotes, the insides of books (a favorite home for poems and quotes in my library) and old journals, but to no avail. 

When out of the blue a letter from my mom arrived.  She was harvesting some of her old files and came upon some Christmas cards, photos, and clippings from "once upon a time" and decided to send them to me…and in that packet was a copy of the Christmas card with our gift of the  "Nice Snake" poem.

So,  today I am sending out this early Christmas card to each of you…some of you received it almost 20 years ago…others will read it for the first time today…its message, for me, is still one of the greatest gifts I have ever received.

My utmost thanks to Godfrey John, to my dear friend who taught me to live with dignity while under fire as a "whole-souled woman," and to each of you,  I am so blessed…
Kate

"Magic - it's all about distraction..."

A friend reminded me about this post from 2007 tonight...just when I needed a reminder that I always have the right to refuse to be distracted, and reclaim my focus...transfixing it on God, good. It's always there.

Here's the backstory:

Thanks, S.

"Talkin' about magic..."

“Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart
How the music can free her, whenever it starts
And it's magic, if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie
I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul
But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll”
- John Sebastian

This question surfaces constantly: “If God is good, and is all, how is it that we experience illness, depression, sorrow, evil?”

I too have asked this question of myself, and of others…teachers, pastors, sages, professors…but especially of God.

At one point in my study of Christian Science, this question seemed to be all I could think about.  I took Mary Baker Eddy’s route towards discovery.  I “searched the Scriptures and read little else”…well, except her best-selling book on spirituality, Science and Health. 

One day during a particularly intense search for answers, it was in this book that I found a clue that seemed to stand out in relief as if highlighted in yellow neon.  My research had led me to focus my inquiry on a chapter titled “Animal Magnetism Unmasked” in which she explores with her reader this topic that she defines in these six brief pages, in part, as “mesmerism,” that which “leads to moral and physical death,” “a mere negation,” “a specific term for error,” “mortal mind,” a “suppositional lie,”…etc.  Not a light topic.  But one that seemed to have me stopped in my tracks like a deer in the headlights. 

Through the course of my daily spiritual practice, I would study, ponder and pray out from other spiritual facts, but this question seemed to loom just at the back of every question I brought to the closet in prayer.    One day I was sitting in my office, once again reading through those six pages, and I came across this sentence:

“Any seeming benefit derived from it  [animal magnetism]
is proportional to one’s faith in esoteric magic.”

Hmm….what could be the connection between this topic of animal magnetism and magic?  I spent the next year investigating that question. 

And I got nowhere…slowly.  Granted, I was busy. I had a full-time public practice in spiritual healing, as well as the parenting three children, and a consulting project with an international speakers’ bureau, to navigate each day.  My plate was full, but there always seemed to be space for that question about Eddy's use of the term "magic," in connection with "animal magnetism," to surface.

After a year of scouring library, bookstore, and “strange little out of the way magic shop” shelves for some clue as to the connection between spiritual healing and esoteric magic, I was frustrated and ready to give up.  I had read lots, but felt no closer to something I could make my own, feel the strength of, and find practical as a healer. 

I decided to give it another try one Saturday in early April.  It was one of those perfect crocus-popping spring days.  Temperatures in the 60s, a deep blue cloudless sky, and robins singing from the trees like that deranged bird in Mary Poppins during the “Spoonful of Sugar” sequence… all assertive and cheery.  But I digress…

The girls were playing happily with their dad, so I slipped away for an hour after the breakfast dishes were done for a cup of tea and some study at my favorite coffeehouse in our village center, just outside of Boston, while our older daughter was in a ballet workshop.  I arrived early enough to garner one of the few tables outside on the wide sidewalk, and settled in.  Before long, I was more frustrated than ever.  I just didn’t get it. 

I was ready to resign to the possibility that I would never get the connection between magic and the practice of spiritual healing, when a man approached my table balancing his coffee mug on a book, and carrying his brioche on the plate in his other hand, while a copy of the Boston Globe seemed to be ready to spill out from under his arm.  He asked if he could share my table...glancing about, as if to encourage me to notice that there were no vacant seats, except the chair on which I had placed my small traveling library.  As I reached to move the books and papers, I looked right into his face and allowed all of the frustration I was feeling about my search, to pour out in seven words that surprised us both. 

“Yes, but it’s going to cost you!” 

Normally I would never have said such a thing. I’d have met his request with a cheerful nod, and then within a few moments excused myself and left for home, or the car, to wait for our daughter to finish her ballet workshop.  But this time I was so absorbed in my question that I had blurted out the conditions of my demand, before thinking.

I don‘t believe he could have ever imagined it coming from the benignly studious person he had approached.  There I was in jeans, a white men’s dress shirt ten sizes too large and rolled up at the sleeves, a pair of old scuffed pick ballet slippers, the arms of a nubby grey sweater tied around my shoulders, my reading glasses clinging precariously to the tip of my nose, and my white hair bursting wildly from the pencils that anchored it up into a bun.  I was anything but the image of a coquette-ish schoolgirl flirting with a stranger.  Thank goodness for his ability to process that visual information quickly enough to respond with patient good humor.

“What’s it going to cost me?” he asked with a curious, and hesitant, smile. 

I was relieved that he hadn’t given me a “what a weirdo” look, and just turned his back.  I smiled and said, “You have to tell me everything you know about magic!” 

I could see relief seep through the wariness in his face.  As he placed his coffee and brioche, book and morning paper on the table, he replied, “Piece of cake, I’m a professional magician.” 

I was stunned, but didn’t waste precious time.

“Good," I said, "tell me about magic in layman's terms, in three or four sentences, so that I understand the fundamental principles behind how it works.”

“I can tell you in one word: distraction.” 

He then explained it to me. 

When a magician is performing a trick he diverts your focus from watching what his hands are doing so that you aren’t aware of the "trick" that is going on right in front of your eyes.  He then lets go of your focus, allowing it to return to where you think it has been all along.  And voila…a rabbit pops out of a hat.  While he had distracted you, or pulled your focus off of what he is doing...by suggesting that you look at his sequined, flashy assistant...he has retrieved the rabbit from a box under the table, and placed it in the hat in full view right in front of you.  When he released your focus and then pulled the rabbit out of the hat, you thought it was magic. 

For me it was just the key I needed for unlocking an important door in my practice of spiritual healing...one that I've alluded to, in a previous post titled, "And immediately the fever left her..." 

Sickness, sin, disease, war, violence are just, at their roots, the suggestion that God is absent. They, like the magician, would like to be able to pull my focus from the allness of God, good, that is always right in front of me. To pull my eyes off center to where it is jumping up and down, screaming “God is absent…God is absent.”   But at any given moment I can say “No…I have the right to see what is right in front of me."  I have the right to reclaim my focus and see that God is present. And that any instance of good, however faint, points to the allness of good. .  That when Love is at all present, in some expression of kindness or affection…even if it is just the very moment of loving that you are bringing to bear on the situation by doing something kind for another...it is all-present -- since there is only one measure, or portion of Love, God, and that is infinite, all..  To realize that it is enough to realize that Mind is present in the very questioning you are doing, as you search for answers. 

By reclaiming your focus, holding it on the presence of God, appreciating any indication of God’s presence, you are refusing to consent to the absence of God in any measure, degree or form.  This focus, the appreciation...awareness of, and gratitude for...good, results in the appreciat-ing...ensuent growth in value, of goodness in all its manifestations. And acting out from this presence of God, good, is to begin living with spiritual (God-based) authority without condition or measure.

Mary Baker Eddy further supports this way of living and seeing when she asserts:

“No evidence before the material senses
can close my eyes to the scientific proof
that God, good, is supreme.”

There is never a moment when we cannot be the love “the magician” is trying to convince us is absent, or to ask the question that affirms the presence of Mind, Love, Truth, Life that this same trickster would try to assert has left the room.

Eddy goes on to say,

“Love is especially near in times of hate,
and never so near as when one can be just
amid lawlessness, and render good for evil.”

I left the café that day with a new friend…a magician…and a fresh, vital way of thinking about my work, my world, and my right to stay focused on the presence of God--the presence of good--throughout every day.

“I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul
But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll”
- John Sebastian

Here's a link to John Sebastian, and the Lovin' Spoonful singing ""Do you believe in magic..."

with Love,

Kate

"Talkin' about magic..."

“Do you believe in magic in a young girl's heart
How the music can free her, whenever it starts
And it's magic, if the music is groovy
It makes you feel happy like an old-time movie
I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul
But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll”
- John Sebastian

This question surfaces constantly: “If God is good, and is all, how is it that we experience illness, depression, sorrow, evil?”

I too have asked this question of myself, of others…teachers, pastors, sages, professors…and especially of God.

At one point in my study of Christian Science, this question seemed to be all I could think about.  I took Mary Baker Eddy’s route towards discovery.  I “searched the Scriptures and read little else”…well, except her best-selling book on spirituality, Science and Health. 

One day during a particularly intense search for answers, it was in this book that I found a clue that seemed to stand out in relief as if highlighted in yellow neon.  My research had led me to focus my inquiry on a chapter titled “Animal Magnetism Unmasked” in which she explores with her reader this topic that she defines in these six brief pages, in part, as “mesmerism”, as that which “leads to moral and physical death”, “a mere negation”, “a specific term for error”, “mortal mind”, a “suppositional lie”…etc.  Not a light topic.  But one that seemed to have me stopped in my tracks like a deer in the headlights. 

I would study, ponder and pray out from other spiritual facts, but this question seemed to loom just at the back of every question I brought to the closet of prayer.    One day I was sitting in my office, once again reading through those six pages and I came across this sentence:

“Any seeming benefit derived from it  [animal magnetism]
is proportional to one’s faith in esoteric magic.”

Hmm….what could be the connection between this topic of animal magnetism and magic?  I spent the next year investigating that question. 

And I got nowhere…slowly.  I had a full-time public practice in spiritual healing as well as my parenting three children and consulting/training for an international speakers’ bureau on a broad range of  topics.  My plate was full, but there always seemed to be a space for that question about magic to surface.

After a year of scouring library, bookstore and “strange little out of the way magic shop” shelves for some clue as to the connection between spiritual healing and esoteric magic, I was frustrated and ready to give up.  I had read LOTS, but felt no closer to something I could make my own, feel the strength of, and make practical as a healer. 

I decided to give it another try one Saturday in early April.  It was one of those perfect early spring days.  Temperatures in the 60s, a deep blue cloudless sky, and robins singing from the trees like that deranged bird in Mary Poppins during the “Spoonful of Sugar” sequence… all assertive and cheery.  But I digress…

The girls were playing happily with their dad nearby and I slipped away for an hour after the breakfast dishes were done for a cup of tea and some study at my favorite coffeehouse in downtown Newtonville, just outside of Boston.  I arrived early enough to garner one of the few tables outside on the wide sidewalk, and I settled in.  Soon I was more frustrated than ever.  I just didn’t get it. 

I was ready to resign to never getting it, this connection between magic and the practice of spiritual healing, when a man approached my table balancing his coffee mug on a book and carrying his brioche on the plate in his other hand while a copy of the Boston Globe seemed to spill from under his arm.  He asked if he could share my table, glancing about as if to lead me to see that there were no vacant seats except the chair on which I had placed my small traveling library.  As I reached to move the books and papers, I looked right into his face and allowed all of the frustration I was feeling about my search pour out in seven words that surprised us both. 

“Yes, but it’s going to cost you!” 

Normally I would never have said such a thing. I’d have met his request with a nod and then within a few moments excused myself and left for home.  But this time I was so absorbed with my question that I had blurted out this demand before thinking.

I don‘t believe he could have ever imagined it coming from the benignly studious person he had approached.  There I was in jeans, a white men’s dress shirt ten sizes too large and rolled up at the sleeves, a pair of old scuffed pick ballet slippers, the arms of a nubby grey sweater tied around my shoulders, my reading glasses clinging precariously to the tip of my nose, and my white hair bursting wildly from the pencils that anchored it up into a bun.  I was anything but the image of a coquetteish schoolgirl flirting with a stranger.  Thank goodness for his ability to process that visual information quickly enough to respond with patient good humor.

“What’s it going to cost me?” he asked with a curious and hesitant smile. 

I was relieved that he hadn’t given me a “what a weirdo” look and just turned his back.  I smiled and said, “You have to tell me everything you know about magic!” 

I could see relief seep through the wariness in his face.  As he placed his coffee and brioche, book and morning paper onto the table, he replied, “Piece of cake, I’m a professional magician.” 

I was stunned, but didn’t waste precious time.

“Good, tell me about magic in three or four sentences so I understand the principles behind how it works.”

“I can tell you in one word: distraction.” 

He then explained it to me. 

When a magician is performing a trick he diverts your focus from watching what his hands are doing so that you aren’t aware of what is going on right in front of your eyes.  He then lets go of your focus, allowing it to return to where you think it has been all along.  And voila…a rabbit pops out of a hat.  While he had distracted you, or pulled your focus, he had retrieved the rabbit from a box under the table, and placed it in the hat in full view right in front of you.  When he released your focus and then pulled the rabbit out of the hat, you thought it was magic. 

For me it was just the key I needed for unlocking an important door in my practice of spiritual healing…one that I alluded to in the previous post.  Sickness, sin, disease, war, violence are just, at their roots, the suggestion that God is absent. They, like the magician, would like to be able to pull your eyes from the allness of God that is always right in front of you, off to the side where it jumps up and down and screams “God is absent…God is absent”.  But at any given moment you can say “No…I have the right to see what is right in front of me.  That God is present as an instance, however faint, of goodness and grace.  That Love is present in some expression of kindness or affection…even if it is just the moment of loving that you bring to bear on the situation by doing something generous for another.  That Mind is present in the very questioning you are doing as you search for your answers. 

By reclaiming your focus, holding it on the presence of God, appreciating this indication of God’s presence, you are refusing to consent to the absence of God in any measure, degree or form.  The focus, appreciation (awareness of and gratitude for), appreciat-ing (its ensuent growth in value) and acting out from this presence of God…this is living with spiritual (God-based) authority without condition or measure.

Mary Baker Eddy further supports this way of living and seeing when she asserts:

“No evidence before the material senses
can close my eyes to the scientific proof
that God, good, is supreme.”

There is never a moment when we cannot be the love “the magician” is trying to convince us is absent, or to ask the question that affirms the presence of Mind that this same trickster would try to assert has left the room.

Eddy goes on to say,

“Love is especially near in times of hate,
and never so near as when one can be just
amid lawlessness, and render good for evil.”

I left the café that day with a new friend…a magician…and a way of thinking about my work, my world, and my right to stay focused on the presence of God--the presence of good--throughout every day.

“I'll tell you about the magic, and it'll free your soul
But it's like trying to tell a stranger 'bout rock and roll”
- John Sebastian

Here's a link to John Sebastian, and the Lovin' Spoonful singing ""Do you believe in magic..."

with Love,

Kate