I’m the oldest of three kids, with 8 years between me and the youngest. Once all three of us were in elementary school and had tons of after school activities and before I was old enough to help with the driving, my mom had no time. None. Three kids, a “food & household task” illiterate husband, a full time job, and her own schoolwork (my mom got 2 Masters and a Doctorate while raising us) made for a full day.
So my mom started getting up at five am, to give her extra time in the day for her. Only for her. She developed a ritual of prayer, scripture reading, journaling, and body movement that she did alone and in silence each morning until her death. When truly alone in the house, she added song to her routine.
I have been trying to do this myself, to carve out intentional times of silence and solitude for my own spiritual space and development.
But I’ve been doing a terrible job.
Take this morning, for example. I had a meltdown when my sweet spouse, who is on vacation and whom I’d expected to be sleeping in the early hours, announced a plan to be getting up with me. I found myself unable to simply say that I needed a little silence to write, and was hoping for some alone time.
All of it just flooded over me. All of those angry, toxic messages I am just now beginning to identify, they filled my brain.
It was stupid to try. I have to get good enough to be able to do this anywhere under any circumstances and I must not care enough because I can’t. I hurt everyone around me in order to get what I want. I don’t deserve this time because I haven’t done enough. And again with its constant beat, if you were good enough, you could do this regardless.
And of course that’s all bullshit. All of it.
I know that intellectually. I even know it well enough to teach it, to preach it, to live it out most of the time. But it isn’t until I slow down, until I take some deep breaths, and until I just sit for a minute that I can see what is happening.
I can remember learning to slow down as a youth minister, and how crucial that was for good ministry to happen. It’s very easy in that world to fall into something called the “regressive pull” of youth. This is the phenomenon of adults adopting juvenile behavior, ramping up the energy, going along with crazy schemes… It’s not really about wanting to be the teenagers or relive that age, it’s more about letting their energy control you.
I’ve seen regressive pull take over adults who are in decision making roles, and the results are always hilarious and sometimes disastrous.
All of it can be cut through by simply stopping, by taking the time to walk and talk through something and ask questions. I became known as an adult who would ask for a time of prayer, or suggest a liturgy to wrap up the day. Compline, an ancient end of day prayer service, doesn’t just calm the kids down -it works on everyone.
I’ve been leaning into the times of slowness in my own life, trying to live within this plague-driven limbo as a time of generation and expansion. And while I don’t do a great job consistently yet, it is getting easier.
In a talk given to his then teenaged peers, a good friend of mine stated that every action he undertook in work was prayer. Every car he fixed became holy. Each lug nut turned an action of gratitude, each tire changed an action of service. His gift was his skill, and its use was how he served others. And engaged in prayer.
Taking some of Kenny’s ethic into my lived day to day, I find that the simplest things can become extraordinary. A smile and word of appreciation from a friend can fill my heart. Soup made from scratch becomes a feast. A feared conversation can unfold into a lively exchange if I just slow down enough to catch it all.
Anything can be transformed in the slow alchemy of the Divine. Any heart can turn. Any mind be opened. But it does require time, the space of breath and stillness.
May you find the quiet places in your life and in your heart, and make the space for slowness.