Jugular Prayer with Father Edward Hays

I’m wallowing in the wonder of the prayer consciousness of Father Ed Hays this Lenten season. Spirituality & Practice, the website created and flourishing under the direction of Frederic and Mary Ann Brussat, is offering this 40-day course via email. Each day an excerpt from Father Hays’ work appears in my inbox. His work is so rich that an email bite is about all I can take in.

Here is an excerpt from Day 4:

Day 4: Use Your Fingers in Prayer

The Koran says that God is closer than the vein in your neck. What a beautiful invitation to pray. In fact, it suggests a new way to pray. Begin by placing your first and second fingers on your throat’s jugular vein. Linger there as you feel the vigorous throbbing of life within you. Praying with your fingers on your jugular vein can be a sensual affirmation that God is not distant or remote but is pulsating within you. I personally have found this prayer gesture to be extraordinarily affirming of my core spiritual and intellectual belief, and so I present this practice for your consideration.

God is life. What better way to be mindful of the nearness of the Presence than to actually feel it vibrating on your fingertips? To gain the attention of God, your intimate Beloved, does not require bellowing prayers, clanging bells or thunderous pipe organ preludes. A silent sensual touch can profoundly awaken you to God’s perpetual attention to you and your needs.

Besides being an excellent preface to any prayer, this tactile throat prayer gesture is useful whenever you are in need of God’s presence. Use your Jugular Prayer whenever you feel yourself sinking deeper and deeper in the quicksand of an argument or trapped in a no-win discussion — or in any difficult encounter. . . .

A Jugular Prayer expresses a fidelity to the Master of Hidden Holiness. You can use it in the crowded shopping mall, at your desk, and driving home from work. Prayer rituals and postures have great value since they influence the mind and heart. Yet as one of God’s secret agents, you need not drop to your knees or piously fold your hands to pray. By innocently placing your two fingers on your jugular vein, you can silently pray to your God throbbing at your fingertips.

— Edward Hays in Prayer Notes to a Friend

To Practice This Today: Several times during the day in different locations, try the Jugular Prayer. Report on your experience of it in the Practice Circle.

I have been a fan of Father Edward Hays for many years. His books on prayer have opened my eyes for years. He’s a deep practice kind of guy. The Brusatts say:

Edward Hays has been a Catholic priest since 1958. After thirteen years in the parish ministry, including seven years as pastor to Native Americans, he made an extended prayer pilgrimage to the Near East, Israel, and India. He served as director of Shantivanam, a contemplative center in the Midwest, and as the priest chaplain at the Kansas State Penitentiary in Lansing. A co-founder and moving spirit of Forest of Peace Publishing, he is the author of more than 30 bestselling books on contemporary spirituality.

Over his long and illustrious career, Hays has been a pioneer manifesting a daring mystical sensibility and an unbridled imagination that makes his vision consistently fresh and invigorating. He creatively uses parables and stories to discern God’s presence within the precincts of everyday life. He often presents startling images for believers; tears are “prayer beads,” a question mark is a “holy symbol,” sleep is “a sacrament as God’s Good Night News,” and a smile is “an outward sign of a laughing soul.” His prayers, original psalms, and daily rituals provide a framework a fresh and wide-ranging devotional life.

Edward Hays is above all a master of everyday spirituality. This is a tradition that goes back to Celtic Christians who sought the presence of God in household duties, and even farther back to Jesus, who framed his teachings around common activities. Hays encourages us to read and interpret what shows up in our lives, to find places of meditation and silence where we live and work, to keep an open house in our heart for all things, to sustain the art of long looking, and to cultivate a sense of wonder.

Consider visiting Spirituality & Practice to sign up and catch up with Lent and Father Edward Hays. You’ll be glad you did.

The Red Clock

As we all know, humans are creatures of habit. Witness our experience when the red kitchen clock I’ve owned for more than 30 years died last week. We keep looking at the nail in the wall for the time.

Admittedly, I had a certain nostalgia for that clock. It was the first thing I ever charged on a credit card right after I got out of college. I remember going to The Cellar in Macy’s in New York City and feeling oh, so grown up. I’ve schlepped that clock all over the country. It’s lived in my homes in New York City, Bridgeport, Kansas City, southeastern Washington state, and Boston. That red clock has witnessed a lot.

When I brought it home the first time, I hung it low on a kitchen wall-space. I told my then housemate that the red reminded me that time was valuable, and low on the wall meant it was also unimportant. Over the years, I’ve babied my clock. The thingies that held the battery oxidized over and over again. I fixed it. A fix-it friend fixed it. The top had a chip from when it fell off the wall once and bounced. It kept great time.

My red clock has been a metaphor for my relationship with time over the years. Time is a funny thing for humans. We have a love/hate relationship with time.

But the thing is: time is the great equalizer. We all have the same amount of time. 24 precious hours in any given day. And it doesn’t matter if you’re the Sheik of Araby or Little Miss Thang. Every one of us has the same 525,600 minutes in a year.

The issue is not time itself, but how we choose to spend our time. The amazing thing is that time, as we “spend” it, is a great illusion. The only real time there is happens to be Now. This now, and then the next now. That red clock reminded me of Now.

Fortunately for the Universe in its whirl, Amazon had a slew of red kitchen clocks to choose from and a new one is winging its red way to me right now. It will go on the kitchen wall, and if it lasts as long as the former one, I’ll be 81 when I need a new one.

There’s no time like the present, and there’s no present like the time.

Fear of Death

Seeds XII, 8

Seed: Fear of Death

It is said that the greatest fear of humankind is the fear of death. It could very well be, but I wonder.

What can be said truly is that we no longer have customs which sustain us when we face death. Just think of this one: wearing mourning clothes. Mourning clothes told everyone the mourner encountered that mourning was going on—without a word. Furthermore, mourning clothes were worn for designated periods of time depending upon the closeness of the mourner to the one who died.

My elderly mother-in-law died this year. I loved her; she was a pistol. I do not mourn her the way my spouse, her daughter, does. To look at my sweetie, you wouldn’t know she was in mourning. Should we reinstitute mourning clothes? Probably not, but it’s not a bad idea to wear a reminder of mourning for ourselves.

In this life, we all face death, dear one. Small deaths in disappointments, and factual death in the cessation of life in those we love. There are as many kinds of mourning as there are souls. If you are one who mourns right now, bring your fear of death with you into the process and let that be healed as well.

Be passion,

Susan Corso

Dr. Susan Corso

Seeds are remarkable gifts. Sown in consciousness, they bring you to the most important part of your being—your Divine Spark.

Check out the Seeds Archive for past messages of inspiration.

When you have friends you would like added to the Seeds e-mail list, send their addresses to me at susan@susancorso.com.

For spiritual nourishment, please visit my website www.susancorso.com

and my blogs Seeds for Sanctuary, Ode Magazine, and The Huffington Post

and

join me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter: @PeaceCorso.

The Real Thing

I just finished a session with a really nice guy, a really nice guy, and it’s not working for him any more. It’s not that nice guys finish last. No, not at all. It’s that being a nice guy is a false stance. Does that shock you?

There’s nothing wrong with being a nice guy, but the tip-off for me in the session was that he kept saying, “I keep trying to be a nice guy.” Keyword: trying. To whom was it trying? To my client.

Now, don’t misunderstand me. Being a nice guy is a nice thing. Better that than being a mean guy to be sure. The issue is why. Why was he trying to be such a nice guy? And why did he have to try at all? Why wasn’t he simply a nice guy because he was simply a nice guy? There’s, to coin a phrase, the rub.

If you have to try to be nice, something’s not right, something’s off. And what is off? In a word: authenticity. It’s not that he was lying about who he is. It’s that he’s trying to be something he’s not. Who is hurt by this? The guy, and every relationship he has.

Whoa!

What’s to do?

Change your priorities—pronto. Instead of being a nice guy or trying to be, the far wiser goal is to be a real guy, an authentic person. When you are authentic, you interface with others out of your own authority. When you are inauthentic, you trade away your authority to others and are weakened in the bargain. Ouch.

Being real—no matter how ugly it gets, and humans can get ugly—is far preferable to being nice. I know that sounds like it flies in the face of the Golden Rule, but it really doesn’t. Being real, like the Velveteen Rabbit, is a worthy goal.

Being real means being honest, knowing yourself, feeling your feelings, telling the truth about them. Being real means being in the moment, not trying, just being. Yes, being. For my money, the real thing is far preferable to trying to meet an idealized self-image that isn’t who you really are.

And if it turns out that you can be nice in the bargain, go for it.

Redemption

A dear friend just performed in a dreadful play and I, friend that I am, went and saw the show. Not wanting to upset him during the run, I sent him a thanks and we’ll talk email pointing out the couple of things I really enjoyed about the performance.

When we finally talked, I was able to say to him that I really thought the play was awful. He didn’t agreed with me, but he did see how I could have seen it that way. What I told him was that there was no redemption at the end. I don’t like plays that lack redemption. In fact, that’s what I think the theatre is for.

The word redemption comes from Latin roots meaning to redeem which means to buy back. There was nothing to take away from the show that I saw that had any flavor of redemption whatsoever. It was gory and dark and angry at the beginning and gory, dark, angry and heartless at the end.

We’re on what I’ve dubbed “HEDDA lockdown” this weekend. My sweetie is directing HEDDA GABLER at Tufts University and this is tech weekend. Two days of 12-hour rehearsals to get all the lights, costumes, sets, props, and sound in order so that they can open on the 18^th.

HEDDA is not about redemption either. Oh maybe it is. Maybe the act of taking her own life in the penultimate moment of the play is a twisted form of redemption, definitely twisted. Her production is terrific and I think it’s going to be a good evening in the theatre, but it’s not redemption as I like it.

I like the redemption of musicals. The leads get one another in the end (boy/girl, girl/boy, boy-/boy, girl/girl) and all’s well that ends well. The world is unredeemed enough that I think the theatre ought to take its redemptive role seriously.

Musicals are ordered to provide redemption, and I think we need it. In Billy Elliott on Broadway a coal miner’s son wants to be a ballet dancer. By following his heart, he gets what he desires. The theatre, for me, functions as a mirror of the best way to live. We needn’t wallow in other than the best ways to live—all we have to do is turn on a computer or a television for that.

So the next time you go see a show, ask yourself what you’d like to “buy back,” (another way to put this is “take away”) from the production. I’m only buying back the best ways to live as shown to me by the gracious Imaginary Invalid.

P. S. If you’re in Boston, come see HEDDA. Feb 18^th to 20^th and Feb 25^th to 32^th. The box office number is 617-627-3493.

Special Valentine’s Day Seed

Seeds XII, Special Seed

Seed: St. Valentine’s Day

May your Heart bloom on this Day of Love.

Be passion,

Susan Corso

Dr. Susan Corso

Seeds are remarkable gifts. Sown in consciousness, they bring you to the most important part of your being—your Divine Spark.

Check out the Seeds Archive for past messages of inspiration.

When you have friends you would like added to the Seeds e-mail list, send their addresses to me at susan@susancorso.com.

For spiritual nourishment, please visit my website www.susancorso.com

and my blogs Seeds for Sanctuary, God’s Dictionary,

Ode Magazine, and The Huffington Post

and

join me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter: @PeaceCorso.

S.T.E.P.

Seeds XII, 7

Seed: S.T.E.P.

Can you hear the circus barker? “Step right up, folks. Step right up and see the ….” You fill in the blank with a marvelous wonder.

When I first read this acronym, I laughed out loud. It appeared in Science of Mind Magazine in the January 2010 issue in the Daily Guides written by Religious Science Practitioner Leta Miller.

According to Ms. Miller, S.T.E.P. stands for Stop Taking Everything Personally. You can see why I laughed. It’s a fundamental mistake in dealing with the world. Very little is personal, even though you may be the person involved.

The thing that delights me so about this is that the word step gives us instructions on what to do when we’re taking things personally. Step … take a step, any step … step away, step lively, step on it. Do something to change your perspective.

I can promise you that if you’ll take a step, you’ll stop taking everything personally.

Be passion,

Susan Corso

Dr. Susan Corso

Seeds are remarkable gifts. Sown in consciousness, they bring you to the most important part of your being—your Divine Spark.

Check out the Seeds Archive for past messages of inspiration.

When you have friends you would like added to the Seeds e-mail list, send their addresses to me at susan@susancorso.com.

For spiritual nourishment, please visit my website www.susancorso.com

and my blogs Seeds for Sanctuary, God’s Dictionary,

Ode Magazine, and The Huffington Post

and

join me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter: @PeaceCorso.

Tips for Making Peace with Valentine’s Day

VDay isn’t always a delight for everyone. Not everyone has drunk the koolaid of our couple society. More to the point,   a  lot of us are d-o-n-e with coupledom. What to do?

Tip #1

Acknowledge how you feel about Valentine’s Day even if it’s only in your bathroom mirror. Don’t dwell on it, but tell yourself the truth about it. There are as many responses to this holiday as there are souls. Your feelings are yours, and they’re legitimate.

Tip #2

If you must, throw a pity party for yourself. I mean it. Wallow in how sad, how lonely, how much you fear this will never change for an hour or so. Then put on some wonderful music and dance yourself from pity to peace.

Tip #3

Mitigate your expectations. Do you have a partner who doesn’t do holidays? Or does them poorly, or with resentment? Okay. What would make you feel precious and appreciated? Either ask for that, or give it to yourself.

Tip #4

Are you single yet longing to be coupled? Here’s a secret for manifesting a soulmate: make space for him or her. Clear out a drawer in the bedroom for your new love. Go buy a new toothbrush and put it in the drawer. On VDay, make a ritual of buying and writing in a card to your new beloved. Put that in the drawer, too. This process has worked every time I’ve suggested it to a client for 28 years.

Tip #5

Whether you’re in a relationship or not, whether you’re happy in that relationship or not, do something kind for yourself. It could be as simple as bringing flowers to your office or making a contribution to save the planet or the polar bears. Whatever it is, be sure you feel good about it, and let it be your valentine to the world.

Tip #6

Take the day to bless love—in all its (sometimes) distressing disguises. Most of us have love of some kind in our lives: a pet, a parent or two, friends, siblings, teachers, extended family. The world definitely needs more love. Give your V Day experience over to a spiritual bent and bless love itself.

Tip #7

Make the day all about others, and not about yourself. I have a single friend who always makes sure to attend a local performance of Eve Ensler’s The Vagina Monologues, that show which started her vital work for ending violence against women and girls worldwide. Go to http://www.vday.org/ to learn more about it.

Tip #8

Do something wonderful for yourself on the physical level. Have a massage. Take a luxurious bath. Take the day off from the quotidian and go spend it with the love that is Mother Nature. Whistling wind, whirling snowflakes, rustling palm trees are all forms of love.

Tip #9

If you’re a prayerful sort, use the day to pray for the couples you know. Bless them. Pray for their happiness. Their fulfillment. Their growth. Pray for their health and well-being. Pray for joy for all those who love. All of us love someone or something, and even better, all of us are beloved by Divinity. Wallow in that love.

Tip #10

Dedicate your VDay energies to our beloved Earth. Love the planet. Love the climate. Love Earth into a healthy balance. Go wiggle your bare toes in dirt and thank Her for letting us live here.

You’re Not Who You Think You Are by Albert Clayton Gaulden

Albert Clayton Gaulden put himself through the wringer in this lifetime. He lived not only to tell the tale, but to write about it in his You’re Not Who You Think You Are: A Breakthrough Guide to Discovering the Authentic You. I’m very grateful I read his book.

A student of Vedanta, Gaulden is the founder of the well-known Sedona Intensive, an alternative therapy program that people from all walks of life swear by. I’ve not taken the training, but if his book is any indication, it’s tough, and it works.

The authentic self is a bugaboo for a lot of folks in the spiritual life. Gaulden grabs it by the horns and wrestles it into clarity. He proposes eight stages of development for those of us who seek to be authentic in this crazy world.

I so appreciated his take on the ego that I wrote “Bravo!” in the margin. Ego, he says, is to be integrated into the person through love. Hallelujah! A spiritual teacher who does not vilify that sorely rejected aspect of self, the ego. Ego, dear one, means simply “I am,” and without one, life here would be unbearable.

Ego is to be loved, and guided, and poked and prodded and investigated to bring light to its shadow. That’s all. It’s not some monster that lives inside one—unless we make it a monster. Then, it can kill us with one glance, like a basilisk.

Ego must be led by the Divine in each of us. “Embrace your ego,” Gaulden writes, and begin a conscious relationship with him/her (and we all have both inside us!). “Stop blaming your ego, and sit down and talk.” Develop a dialogue so that High Self can guide ego.

This is actually how the human structure was originally designed, according to Charles Fillmore, co-founder of Unity. Ego was meant to be a follower, not a leader.

“The ego can either be fed or faced.” We get to choose, and once we choose to face the ego, a whole, new, inner world opens to us. “The unredeemed ego is what keeps us connected to the never-ending karmic cycles.” Playing out the same scenes over and over again simply with different characters, until we, ourselves, get the learning. Or, as Gaulden would have it, “remembering.”

His stage two suggests that we have to decide if there’s a god or not. Once we do, and he highly recommends the choice that there is a god, then we get to interact with It. Stage three is coming out of the darkness into the light. Stage Four takes us into the world of Karmic Mirrors. We have to accept our karma in order to change it. “Change starts with forgiving yourself and the making of amends with those you have hurt.”

His further stages take us deeper and deeper into knowledge of self and the action of service. He asks the question: Am I my brother’s keeper? And he answers it, “Yes.” Through love and service, we live into our authentic selves, which is what we’re all doing here anyway.

Finally, he takes us where we all need to end up. All you need is love. He writes, “I experience so many different kinds of love: courtly love, erotic love, familial love, free love, platonic love, puppy love, religious love, romantic love, unrequited love. Then there is the love of God.”

Earlier, Gaulden writes, “Every soul has a resonance with God. The divine frequency is reactivated initially by remembering what harmony and peace feel like.” And that’s the key. No matter how much travail, no matter how much pain, no matter how much recovery, it’s all worth it because harmony and peace are the result.

Read Albert Clayton Gaulden’s book, but be forewarned. If you take it to heart, you will change and your world will change with you.

Calling

Seeds XII, 6

Seed: Calling

The second major definition of calling in the OED appears as 9.a, and says, “The summons, invitation, or impulse of God to salvation or to his service; the inward feeling or conviction of a divine call; the strong impulse to any course of action as the right thing to do.”

God isn’t really necessary to have a sense of calling. It’s an inward process, a sense that there is something you’re meant to be being, doing, thinking. Genuine calling is the awareness that your gifts are gifts that the world needs right where you are.

This is why I prefer Richard Leider’s definition that I found in Utne Reader in the September-October 2007 issue. He says, “I define calling as the inner urge to give your gifts away.”

How do you know it’s a calling? That’s simple. It’s the things that are easy for you, things that seem simple to you, things that seem ordinary to your way of thinking. I’m one of those people who, when I ask someone how they are, the person truly answers me. It’s been so since I was a kid.

So what’s (part of) my calling? To listen deeply to people, to counsel them, to make space, to show love, to hold out possibilities. If it’s easy, it’s likely a calling.

Be passion,

Susan Corso

Dr. Susan Corso

Seeds are remarkable gifts. Sown in consciousness, they bring you to the most important part of your being—your Divine Spark.

Check out the Seeds Archive for past messages of inspiration.

When you have friends you would like added to the Seeds e-mail list, send their addresses to me at susan@susancorso.com.

For spiritual nourishment, please visit my website www.susancorso.com

and my blogs Seeds for Sanctuary, God’s Dictionary,

Ode Magazine, and The Huffington Post

and

join me on Facebook and follow me on Twitter: @PeaceCorso.