GETTING IN TOUCH

     One of the best things about living on the outskirts of the city near the San Antonio River is the wide open green space surrounding our neighborhood. We enjoy vast green vistas on our daily walks along the San Juan Acequia Trail and the Mission Reach. What a gift it is to stand on the banks watching the river flow toward the Gulf of Mexico while a wide variety of birds soar overhead into the brilliant sunset shining in the distance. 

     But one of my very favorite sights is a much, much smaller one that literally brings me down to my knees on a regular basis to watch the tiny leaves of the Sensitive Briar (Mimosa Pudica), growing along the edges of the trail, reacting instantly to even the lightest touch, by shrinking into themselves. It's mind-boggling to watch the rapid contraction (thigmonasty) of the leaves, a startling rapid response I normally associate with creatures, not plants. I don't fully understand the biochemical reactions involved, but it sure is an amazing process to watch.

SPRINGING TO ACTION

     One moment, the two rows of tiny leaves, neatly lined up along either side of a tiny stem, are bright green and sturdy-looking; the next moment, they literally twirl into action at the slightest touch, leaving a whole section of the plant looking completely shriveled up and dead, with just a row of sharp little spines exposed to any animals wanting to graze on this nutritious plant. But if left alone for a few minutes longer, the leaves gradually unfurl and go back to their serious work of harvesting the sunlight the plant needs for the life-sustaining process of photosynthesis.

CONTRACTING IN RESPONSE

     I remember being amazed and amused while playing with these same plants when I was very young, just like I used to love catching fireflies and watching them light up in my hands.  But, I'd largely forgotten about sensitive briars until recently, when the injuries I sustained in a major car wreck last year made me increasingly aware of my body, my surroundings and the many little gifts, guides and reminders of the miracles that life has to offer, day in, day out. I've learned that such reminders are always available, if I'm just willing to slow down and pay attention, and these little sensitive briars are certainly among them. 

CHOOSING TO BLOOM

     Watching these plants in action provides a strikingly visual metaphor for how easy it is to withdraw and contract defensively when our ego feels like it's being threatened - and how important it is to be aware of such contractions, and open ourselves up and get back to the vital business of engaging in the life-sustaining flow of Love moving through us. I'm so grateful to the tiny Mimosa Pudica for teaching me such a big little lesson: life's too precious to spend in a contracted state. Why not open up and blossom instead?

With gratitude and blessings,

     Rudi Harst

PS Here is a short video of the Sensitive Briar in action.

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

WORDS TO LIVE BY

     Patti Burleson is a retired librarian in her mid-80's who has enjoyed a life-long love affair with books, as well as a deep interest in metaphysics, mythology and philosophy. Consequently, she accumulated quite a collection of books on those subjects over the years. When she moved into her daughter's home recently, she knew there wouldn't be room for all of her books, but she didn't want to just get rid of them; she wanted them to go fellow book-lovers with an interest in these subjects.

 

WORDS OF SUPPORT

     Patti has only attended one Circle-sponsored event, and that was a couple of years ago, but she's been following us online and reading this weekly e-letter ever since. Knowing that her interests dovetailed well with our inclusive approach to spirituality, she wanted to support our work, as well as make certain that her beloved books get into good hands -- so she recently called to ask if Celebration Circle would be interested in receiving her books as a donation. Yes, indeed!

WORDS TO SHARE

      Last week, Edward "Butch" Sagebiel, another retired librarian (and the longest serving member of our Council of Stewards, having joined in 1992!) came to our office and spent the day helping sort through  the 200+ books in Patti's collection. With his assistance, we'll be offering these wonderful books for sale during our Sunday Circle this Sunday, and for the next couple of weeks. Come see why we were excited to receive this generous donation, and maybe take couple of books with you, too. Thank you, Patti and Butch!

With blessings,

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

CUTTING IT SHORT

     A number of friends have asked me why I shaved my head last month; several were concerned about my health, because they automatically associated such a suddenly-bald head with chemotherapy. Others assumed I had taken some sort of spiritual vow; some asked jokingly if the new hairdo was my way of trying to beat the summer heat in South Texas.

 

GETTING CLEAR

     The truth is none of the above. I had contemplated shaving my head several times in recent years, as my hair grew thinner and my hairline crept higher. As a long-time professional musician, I've always taken care to maintain a hairstyle that matched whatever "headshot" photo I was using at the time, because that's what professional entertainers do. But as I got older, it just seemed silly to spend good money going to a hairstylist once a month to have ever-fewer hairs manicured into place, and then spend time washing, drying and shaping them before every public appearance, just so I could maintain a particular image.

 

LOOKING BACK

     But, each time I mentioned the possibility of shaving my head, Zet was quick to nix the idea, saying it wouldn't look good, given the shape of my head. That, in turn, always brought back memories of being teased in elementary school for having big ears, buck teeth, and the bad haircuts I got from my dad, who lined his six sons up in the backyard and sheared us on the first Saturday of every month. I clearly remember that after watching the Beatles on the Ed Sullivan Show in February 1964, I vowed to start earning money by mowing our neighbor's lawns, so I could go to the barber shop and pay for a "mod" haircut, in part to emulate my new rock-n-roll heroes, in part to cover my big ears. Which I did. And ever since then, I've made a priority of going to the best hairstylist I could find, even when money was tight.

 

LOOKING FORWARD

     Fast forward to last month. On successive days, I turned sixty-six, filed for Social Security, made an appointment to be tested for hearing aids, watched our son move back into our house, and put to rest a long-submerged dream of becoming a touring musician again someday. Unrelated facts, with complicated back stories, but all tied together with the ribbon of Conscious Aging, which involved making a conscious choice to embrace what is, instead of longing for what was or what could be. Suddenly, it seemed like shaving my head would be a good punctuation mark for moving onto the next chapter of my life story, as well as a handy tool for coming to peace with another layer of my old, childhood programming. So, I did it.

 

MOVING FORWARD

     It's no big deal; just another opportunity to be present with whatever IS in the moment, rather than re-inhabiting the illusions of either a stigmatized or glamorized past -- or drifting off into an idealized future. Young or old, it's a valuable lesson, and I'm doing my best to learn it, one small choice at a time.

With blessings,

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

FACING THE FOUR DIRECTIONS

     Since our very first Celebration Circle gathering in January 1992, we've begun our Sunday Morning Circles by facing the Four Directions of the compass as a community. It's our way of honoring an age-old practice, used by various cultures around the world since time out of mind and re-interpreted in the 1980's within the context of Creation Spirituality. Invoking the Four Directions is a powerful and meaningful process, but as with any ritual, there's the possibility for it to become stale and rote with repetition, unless care is taken to review and renew it periodically. So, as part of my preparation for our annual Interdependence Day celebration this Sunday, I'd like to re-visit my understanding of how and why we invoke the Four Directions in the Circle, and invite you to reflect on this practice along with me.

 

VIA POSITIVA

          We begin by facing South, the direction of Summer and the mid-day sun, the direction of action, abundance and blessings. In doing so, we open our awareness to the goodness, health and well-being woven through the fabric of our lives, acknowledging that our needs have been met today, while trusting that they will continue to be met tomorrow and at every step along the way. (Note: although it is traditional to begin by facing East, we start our Sunday Circles by facing South because that's how our seating arrangement is oriented at SAY Sí).

 

VIA NEGATIVA

          Then we take a quarter-turn to the right (clockwise) and face West, the direction of Autumn and the setting sun. ln doing so, we invoke our willingness to embrace change, the inevitability of death and the mystery of all those unanswered (and possibly unanswerable) questions that are part of the human condition. We are also facing the inescapable fact of impermanence, the awareness that all the objects, relationships and conditions that we think of as being "ours" are actually just "on loan" and must be released at some point.

 

VIA TRANSFORMATIVA

          Now we continue to trace the path of the sun moving through the sky by taking

another 90 degree turn clockwise to face North, the direction of the cold winds of Winter and the pitch black of Midnight. We experience the power of standing our ground in the midst of the inevitable challenges we all must face. Despite our society's post-industrial emphasis on personal safety and certainty, if we scratch beneath the thin veneer of culture, we humans remain physically fragile beings who are clinging to our illusions of security.

          But, one of the deep gifts of opening ourselves to the Four Directions ritualistically is that as we stand and face North, we can experience a renewed sense of strength simply by acknowledging our human frailty, while re-affirming our faith and divinity, too.

 

VIA CREATIVA

          Turning once again, we come to the East, the direction of Spring and the rising sun, the promise of renewal and new beginnings. In doing so, we give thanks for the possibility of a fresh start each day, each moment. Regardless of what happened, whether years ago or yesterday, when we face the direction of the dawn, we're reminded to let go of the past and look at whatever is unfolding in our lives right here and now with fresh eyes and a grateful heart.

 

TURNING INWARD

          Finally, we spiral inward to face the Center of the Circle, which represents the Center of our Being, the middle of the Mystery which is Spirit, fully present right here and now, at all times and in all circumstances. While facing the Center, we remember that we are always in the process of being born, while we're busy dying, too; always living in the midst of abundance as well as loss; always in motion, always standing still. Centered in this awareness, we feel our inter-connection with all of life, and rest in a space of peace and gratitude.

 

GOING ON

          I believe this ritual is particularly well-suited as the invocation for our Circle gatherings, because it is such a powerful way to remind ourselves that this moment is a sacred time, this place where we're standing is sacred ground, this is a sacred gathering. But the Four Directions ritual can be a powerful way to start the day at home, or take a short break in the middle of a work day, or before going to bed - in order to reconnect with the larger story of who we truly are and what we are really here to do.  At least, that's my current understanding, and I'm glad to share it with you.

With blessings,

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

HELPING HANDS, HOPEFUL HEARTS

     Although I was only four and a half years old then, I still have clear memories of our family's immigration to America in March 1957. It was a typical cold, grey Dutch day in Amsterdam, as evidenced by the woolen clothes we were wearing when we boarded the plane (shown above). It was mighty hot, dry and dusty when we stepped off the train three exhausting days of travel later in the small, rural town of New Braunfels, which, like the rest of Texas, was in the middle of a record-breaking heat spell and seven-year drought.

 

THAT WAS THEN

     I clearly remember feeling overwhelmed and confused by the bright, hot sun overhead, reflected off the caliche gravel underfoot, the puzzling sounds of the language, the odd tastes of the food we were offered by the kind strangers who met us. I can't begin to imagine how frightening it would've been, had we been met by armed guards dragging my parents away, leaving me and my three brothers stranded, totally alone and helpless in such foreign surroundings.

 

THIS IS NOW

     That's why it's hard for me to be objective about the humanitarian crisis unfolding along the US-Mexico border. I'll spare you the details of my reactions to the stories and images that have been swirling through the media recently, and won't even start on my opinions about our national priorities and immigration policies, because I'm sure you've got plenty of your own.

     But as the adoptive father of a Latino son, and the son of parents who fled from revolutionary violence in their native country of Indonesia, then endured racial discrimination in the Netherlands before immigrating to America in hopes of a better life, I cannot help but lift up a plea for compassion for those seeking refuge in our midst. Thousands of them are literally our neighbors, being held in numerous nearby detention camps scattered throughout South Texas, while the "lucky ones" pass through San Antonio's streets, bus station and airport, dazed, disoriented and confused, having been released from detention and heading northward, usually without any assistance and only limited resources.

 

WHAT'S NEXT

     I'm not writing to label anyone as a victim or villain; there's plenty of that going on, and it doesn't seem particularly helpful. Instead, I take heart in the work of the many, many caring volunteers who have generously offered their time, talent and resources to help alleviate the suffering. If you live locally, and are inclined to be among them, but don't know where to turn, http://SACompassion.net is the website for Compassionate San Antonio, a powerful, grassroots network of faith-based organizations (including Celebration Circle), businesses, individuals and educational institutions which is actively working together with local government officials to foster compassion in our midst. Among other things, their website offers a list of local organizations taking specific action to support detained immigrants and their children in South Texas; you can access the website here.

 

WHAT YOU COULD DO

     Compassionate San Antonio is also hosting a Vigil For Humanity this Sunday, June 24, from 6pm-8pm on Main Plaza in downtown San Antonio. I invite you to join me and the many others for a time for interfaith prayer, as well as opportunities to connect with organizations working directly with detained immigrant children and families. Please consider joining us in lifting our hopes, prayers and actions in a powerful, positive way.

     If that's not an option for you, I urge you to find your own way to lend a helping hand and/or open your heart to the strangers among us seeking refuge. Not just for their sake, but for yours. To do otherwise would be to ignore who you truly are, both as a member of homo sapiens - the mammalian species uniquely hard-wired to be conscious, caring and compassionate toward others - as well as the emergent sub-species which some are calling homo universalis, the Universal Humans, the ones who are aware of their inherent divinity and Oneness with all Life.

At least, that's my understanding, and I'm grateful for this opportunity to share it with you.

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

A BIG QUESTION

     This week marks the 19th year in a row that Zet and I have spent five days each June leading a multi-disciplinary, multi-generational art camp on the legendary King Ranch in South Texas. Once again, we've done our best to support our students and ourselves in finding new ways to express creatively. The days have been long, and there were often some interesting logistical challenges to deal with, but it's very satisfying work, filled with multiple opportunities to see beyond the horizons of my habitual thought patterns. 

     We arrived home earlier today, in time to get ready for the Sunday Morning Circle, where we plan to bring a bucketful of these creative juices to share with our beloved spiritual community as we celebrate Father's Day -- hopefully, including you. Meanwhile, I'm also preparing for next Saturday's Summer Solstice Concert in the Cave Without a Name, one of my all-time favorite events in 40+ years of being a professional musician. 

 

STAYING FOCUSED

      While these events might appear to be very different from one another stylistically, I do my best to remember that my purpose remains the same in each case:  to experience, explore and express the free flow of Spirit moving through me, in a world of prosperity and peace. At least, that's my intention.

     I admit to having varying degrees of success maintaining my balance and perspective during this action-packed time, so it's helpful to have a statement of purpose that I can return to again and again, to help me stay focused on what it is I'm really here to do in this lifetime. Whether I'm working with a bunch of energetic five year-olds jumping willfully around the classroom early on a weekday morning, or the complex details of getting an eight-piece band onstage in a subterranean wonderland on Saturday night or a joy-filled Sunday Circle of spiritual companions celebrating our Oneness, my intention remains the same. 

 

ASKING YOU

     I choose to remember that I'm not here to worry a lot about doing things "right", nor am I here to try to control the outcomes in a given situation. Rather, I'm here to experience, explore and express the Oneness of Life, while simply trusting that "all is well, and all shall be well." Everything else is just details, so I'll do my best and let go of the rest. At least, that's my story - and I'm glad to be sharing it with you, while also inviting you to remember to ask yourself:  "What's MY purpose?"

With joy

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.

PRACTICING COMPASSION

     It can be mighty easy to feel overwhelmed by the violence, suffering and sadness we see flashing across our electronic screens and in the world all around us -- and rightfully so. Humans have long been hard-wired to care about others, ever since Homo Sapiens first evolved 200,000 years ago, and possibly long before that. For most of that time, we lived in relatively small tribes and/or villages containing several dozen people who seldom travelled more than 50 miles from their birthplace in their lifetimes. In that context, if any one person became sick, injured or died, it affected everyone in the community. Consequently, an individual's ability to survive hinged on the mutual survival of everyone in the tribe, requiring a high degree of compassion and cooperation. It's in our nature to care about the suffering of those around us.

 

PRACTICAL MATTERS

     But today, most of us are living in urban settings surrounded by countless strangers, and virtually all of us inhabit a Global Village, electronically connected to billions of others throughout the planet simultaneously. If you're reading this e-letter, it's likely that you, too, spend a significant portion of each day connected to the Internet, where you're frequently deluged with news of the latest disasters befalling other humans all over the planet, within minutes of them occurring. And because our electronic devices and social media are specifically designed to be as attention-grabbing and personalized as possible, each event feels personal, powerful and potentially gut-wrenching, even if it's occurring to total strangers located halfway around the world. 

 

PRACTICING AWARENESS

     We're simply not designed to handle such wide-spread awareness of suffering! So what can we do when we find ourselves overwhelmed with sorrow or sadness in the face of the latest event? For myself, it's not practical to disconnect from mass media, nor desirable to become callous, numb or uncaring about the suffering of others. Instead, I've learned that whenever my heartstrings are being tugged by the circumstances of someone else's suffering -- whether that person is nearby, or appearing onscreen from far away -- I choose to be as fully aware as possible of the thoughts and sensations that arise in my body, mind and spirit. If, in fact, there is some physical action I can take that would be helpful, I try to take it. But more often than not, the most powerful thing I can do is to get centered in the awareness of my Oneness with Life, then open my heart to the suffering involved as I inhale, and then send blessings to the person(s) involved as I exhale - and repeat this process as long and often as practical.

 

YOUR PRACTICE

     What I'm describing here is not new; it's basically the ancient Buddhist practice of "tonglen," that combines breathwork with mindful meditation, although some version of being prayerfully compassionate also lies near the heart of all the major faith traditions. Perhaps you'll find this particular practice helpful, too. Or perhaps you have a totally different process or perspective on compassion that has worked for you - in which case I hope you'll share it with me. After all, we're all in this together.

In peace,

     Rudi Harst

THANK YOU for holding the Circle in your heart by visualizing a generous flow of financial abundance. Thank you for supporting us as we continue our work of fostering a creative, inclusive approach to spirituality. We are deeply grateful.