Everlasting Evolving

There is a symphony outside my window. I noticed it after my sister told me of attending a (live! in person!) concert of the Boston Symphony Orchestra. This ignited my craving for in-person classical music. The conflagration consumed the field of my feelings and tugged my attention out my window. The window faces a three-story tall rock out-cropping that supports seasonal birds, deciduous and coniferous trees, chipmunks and squirrels, both gray and red, and a warm-weather woodchuck. As I watched the chickadees bounce from twig to branch, and the branches sway with the weight of the playing squirrels, I could hear the symphony. Silently, I could hear it. 

Weaving Deeper

A while back, still in the penumbra of the Weaving the Between post, a friend and I were musing over our experience of what we are calling the christ surge, the evolutionary surge in global consciousness that we and some others are sensing. We are calling it a christ surge because we feel a rightness about understanding the “christ” as a dynamic of the mystery of Being, a dynamic which evolves consciousness, and which was well-incarnated in the person of Jesus. How do we sense it? we asked ourselves and each other. How do we encourage and support it? How do we participate in it?

In the details, we theorized. In the care and respect with which we engage in every task, in each encounter. It hit us both at the same time. It is in the small, unremarkable actions done with attention and respect– presence–that the “between” is woven, filling in the gap between the high-flying perception of a cosmic “coming of christ” and our personal, homely sparks, our personal sparks of humanity, of christ.

With attention and respect–and presence. Heft. Let’s try it on. I see this most clearly where I lack it: in my relationship with time. Some folks, some families, wrestle with money, or food, or possessions, or Other People. Some of us wrestle with time. I suspect the dynamic is similar with each wrestling partner. An area of life where things seem to get away from us, where we are not grounded and congruent. A growth field.

So for me, “weaving the between” can start with my paying attention to my relationship with time. Not letting my old habits suck me into anxiety and tension. I can try out a relationship with time that has heft. So I practise inhabiting the time I am in at the moment, with a full cargo of presence; not in my anxieties making up excuses that may never be needed. This can, I am finding out, get me where I need to be graciously “on time.” It’s all in my attitude, how I hold it, the respect for where I am and what I am doing, the care with which I engage. There is nothing unique or new about this. I have heard about this dynamic in other languages for decades. What is new is my recognition that by living in this relationship with time – and with all aspects of this mortal life – I am actively “weaving the between.” I am part of the amniotic fluid for the christ that is aborning. I am participating in the tidal wave, and its power is sweeping me along toward shore.

Mulling further, it seems that the support I experience in acting with this care and respect may be the truest indicator that the christ is indeed surging, that the christ is indeed currently “coming.” Because, of myself, I am not this caring and grounded and respectful. It is surely some blessed and blessing flow that is moving me to act and respond with this unaccustomed grace. It surely is.

Invitation to a Greater Freedom

In my early processing of the term “christ surge” – the term we are using in the Spark work for times of evolving consciousness–I took some comfort in the idea that it would be equally offensive to folks on either end of the spiritual/religious spectrum: those who were repulsed by anything hinting of Christian influence; and those for whom Jesus Christ is fully and forever encapsulated in the doctrine of the Christian Church.  I am familiar with both and want to open up a space between for fresh insights, thoughts, and language, free from constrictions.   

To back up a bit, evolution is not linear.  It surges.  Then pauses to see what works and moves on through that which does work. The dynamic of evolving consciousness that was recognizable in Jesus (and Moses, and Gautama Buddha, and Mohammad, blessed may he be, and others in other cultures and eras) has been surging since before time.  It will continue to surge.  We can participate in it or resist it.   Calling this surging of consciousness “christ” acknowledges its “anointment” for the evolving of Being. 

Opening up for fresh insights, thoughts, and language makes me think of Rolfing.

Rolfing is a form of bodywork.  It involves freeing the underlying tissue from the constricting grip of its fascia.  Once Rolfed, one moves more freely.  My first Rolfer counseled me that it could be intense.  And that I could choose to experience it as pain.  

It turns out that the physical constrictions of our fascia can develop because of our thought processes: fears, traumas, habits of response.  How we hold our bodies, our posture.  When we are willing to surrender to the “intensity” of the work, we can find ourselves not only moving more freely but thinking and responding to life more freely.   We are no longer bound by our old patterns. 

We can think of our old ideas, our established thought patterns, as a form of fascia. They may be holding us “together” but they may also be limiting our movement.  We may not be able to respond as freely as we’d like.  It turns out that we still hold together even when our old thought patterns are released, and we are freed to get closer to what is true. 

The term “christ surge” is an invitation to a greater freedom, to a more fluent movement among the possibilities and ideas that course through our experience in this time.  An invitation to a greater freedom.

Weaving the Between

My niece, a transportation advocate in San Francisco, remarked that there are great visionary plans for Bay Area transportation, along with nitty get-mired-in-the-details plans…and in between gaping absence. Hmm, I thought, sounds like the Spark project. 

Cosmic we have. The ever-evolving, multi-dimensional dance surging as the current coming of the christ on this precious planet; the surge raising awareness of our union with this place, and acceptance that it is in this union that the fulfillment we desire is available. Got it.

Weensy-nitty we have. Claiming our personal sparks of humanity, of christ. Supporting and encouraging others in claiming their personal sparks. Got it. 

But the between? Because there surely is a between. 

How do we live into it? How might we claim it? Perhaps spiders show a way.

I like to watch spiders. From a former prayer space, I could watch big spiders and little spiders and medium sized spiders sharing my two dormer windows with their big webs and little webs and medium-size webs, catching the insects attracted by the light of the lamp by my chair. Gathering what feeds them, sharing the space, their mutual purpose expressed in an intricate design. 

Maybe through our relationship (whatever it may be) with the spark project we each spin our own-sized web to gather what feeds us, creating our unique design in the space between the cosmic and the personal. If such is the case, may we find our integrity with ourselves and our community of fellow weavers as we spin and weave. May we share our thoughts, our stories, and our experiences with our fellows, encouraging each other as we create a new texture of space. May we catch what feeds us as we join in weaving our webs of resilience and strength. 

Another thought, if we are willing. Maybe we are being woven, brought to our true fulfillment and greatest usefulness through the wisdom of the dance-weaving Great Spider, even as we experience ourselves as weaving. 

Perhaps, at my best, I am an instinct of the Great Spider, a simple instinct through which a bit of web is spun. That can be enough.

May it be resilient and strong and catch good food.

 

A Riff for Eastertide

Once I realized that I was in need of a spiritual community I wanted to be a Quaker or a Buddhist. Something cool and non-violent. Instead, I am a high church Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian. Which can be cool, and even non-violent – when we are being honest about our true roots.  

One cool thing for me is the antiphons of Eastertide, the six weeks between Easter and the expansion of Jesus from our three or four dimensions to the greater dimensionality traditionally called the Ascension. This year I have been struck by the story of the three women going to the tomb on Easter morning to anoint the body of their beloved leader and friend. The body wasn’t there. They were told that Jesus wasn’t dead and had gone back to his workaday home region. They would find him there.  

As I have been chanting the antiphons of this season, based on this story of the three women, the antiphons have melded into the three intuitions that have emerged through the Spark work: 

  1. We are in the early stages of a new phase of global consciousness.
  2. In the Spark lingo we are calling this a christ surge—a movement of the dynamic that evolves human consciousness.  
  3. Jesus is pressing into this—what we are calling a christ surge– as further fulfillment of his mission.

Here is the riff. Jesus, that life-offering way-show-er, has been as good as dead, entombed in our assumptions, our convenient resistances, our aversion to responsibility.   When we come to offer his remains the social rituals which express the respect we feel is due him, he ain’t there.  

He is alive.  

He is going before us into a new phase of human consciousness, grounded in the familiarity of our home places, yet new. And real.  

We can find him there. 

As we are willing to move into this new consciousness, to explore its possibilities, we will find him there, in the grounding of our workaday world. Showing us the way.  Offering life. Regardless of whether we recognize him, regardless of whether we like him, regardless of whether we align with the faith tradition nominally associated with him. He is in a new phase, the emerging consciousness, the current coming of the christ.  Ready to help us, to accompany us, to show us how we each uniquely can contribute to this new way of being. To bring us toward our greater and true fulfillment. 

Happy Easter indeed.

The christfield

I was explaining to a friend why we use metaphors in the spark work when, without thought, I said that they could help draw people into the christfield. Later I found myself wondering what I meant by the christfield. What is the christfield? 

Maybe we can see it as an energy field, the “gravitational” field, that draws us more fully into the process of becoming, into the ‘christ’. The word ‘christ’ is most familiar capitalized, in reference to one who lived into this potential so completely as to be fully identified with it. The christ, uncapitalized, may be understood as the press toward fulfillment, the force that grows us—and all creation. It’s the pressing of life as it evolves, urging us (including our consciousness) toward what we are to become. 

The christfield, then, is the dynamic, living field that draws us toward and into our personal, unique (ever-evolving) place in the dance of all being. It’s the dimension that serves to draw us, through the relative buoyancy of our claimed sparks, deeper into the christ process. It builds our willing participation in the process of becoming as it evolves our awareness. 

 If you are not comfortable with christfield as a word, maybe among us we can come up with another. Something that we can think of as the dynamic of multi-dimensional evolving that surges through human history, and, if we like, through all creation. 

Whatever we call it, it is relevant to the spark work. Here is how: when we claim our sparks by affirming and connecting with the spark in others, their spark is strengthened. And so, also, is ours. As our spark becomes strengthened our defenses erode, our bafflement becomes clarified, our distortions are released. Our sparks become more buoyant. This makes us more available to the dance, more accessible to the tug of the christfield. We are less bound up by our old ideas and more susceptible to being moved toward our optimal engagement and thus comfort. 

I want to assure anyone who is as resistant as I once was that we can allow ourselves to be drawn into the christfield, deeper into the christ field (since we are all in it– the issue is how resistant we are to its tug) without fear of ending up in the institutional Christian church or any other “organized” religion. We may, or we may not. The christfield, as I have been experiencing it, has no preference in that direction. 

The christfield knows where we best belong. It will get us where the dance wants us, where it needs us. It will get us to our true comfort. 

 How does that sound? 

 

Claiming Place in the Dance

“It’s not supposed to be this way,” my friend complained. Structural and systemic challenges were forming her life in a way she had not envisioned. Did I have anything to offer? Maybe there was something in the spark work that could be stretched and deepened to be helpful? At least offering a creative alternative? 

When things seem out of joint and painful, I find myself looking at the big picture. The big picture that is emerging through the spark work is an ever-evolving, multi-dimensional dance, of which we are creatures. The dance is of all being. We can’t escape it. It’s a fact, the reality in which we exist. It is ever-evolving. Multi-dimensional. There’s very little about it that we can change. We can, however, change our relationship with it, our attitude toward it. We can stop fighting against it, learn to dance with and within it. We can even learn to trust it.

“The pain is in the resistance,” another friend often remarks. How about letting the dance take us where it wants us? This is an ever-evolving, multi-dimensional dance. Our place within this multi-dimensional dance changes as we allow ourselves to participate in its evolution. So can we can learn to become comfortable in the change? How can this happen? 

When we do the spark work, when we claim our personal spark by affirming and connecting with the spark in others, it seems that our spark is strengthened. It seems that the strengthening of the spark gives us buoyancy. We can be more readily moved by the dance to where the dance needs us. Let’s face it: we are going to be comfortable, truly comfortable, only where the dance wants us, needs us. This might sound like acceptance, but I am thinking there is more to this than acceptance.  

I’m thinking there is a dimension to the dance that needs to be claimed in order to be experienced. I think this is where we find true comfort. Remember, this dance is ever-evolving and multi-dimensional. So there is nothing static, or even predictable, about our place within it. We have no say over our place in the dance. But we always have a say over our relationship with it, our attitude toward it. You could say that the dance is one of love, or that it is love. Are we willing to accept it? To trust it? To surrender to its dynamic? Live into it? Letting go of our preconceptions, our ideas of comfort, our suppositions? Can we claim a place in the dance, knowing that this is where home is? 

My suspicion is that when we do this, truly claim a place in the dance, we become agents of its evolving. We participate in its life. Our life in its life, its life in our life. Home. 

How about it?

More Metaphors?

A friend was drilling into what is meant by ‘spark of humanity’: “Is it the soul? Is it the true self? Is it the spirit?” Frustrated, I struggled to find a true response. Finally, the concept and the word came: it’s a metaphor. It’s a metaphor that ‘works’ for some folks, and not for others. It’s a metaphor.

Another friend, not feeling fond of humanity, wrestled with what we might be trying to say. “Humane,” she offered. “ A spark of the capacity to respond in a humane way.” Okay.

At a recent Conversation and Meditation session, a participant suggested “Peace, a place of peace.” We tried it out and it seemed to work. The dynamic can be the same. A place that we all have, every one of us, and through which we can reach out to and affirm that place in others, strengthening both. Thus eroding defenses, clarifying bafflement, releasing distortions. Okay. 

As long as we are working it, or working with it, does it matter what we call it? 

Reading later that evening I came across the idea that there is a sanctuary of silence available to everyone. That too. Like a place of peace. I played a bit with how that metaphor might interact with or be understood by others. Does the spark dwell in the place of peace which is also a sanctuary of silence? Then I thought, does it matter? Not to me, not at the moment. 

What matters is that there is a place, a quality, a thing, a space, an event, within each human being, every one of us, that can be connected with and strengthened. And that transforms. From the inside. 

From what those of us who are trying this practice are learning, it cannot be corrupted, it cannot be extinguished. And there is no defense against it. 

What metaphor might work best for you? 

And how do we encourage and support folks in finding that place or sanctuary or dynamic within themselves? How do we encourage and support them in claiming it in order to become agents of transformation? 

What do you suggest?