“The Healing in Freedom” by Rev. Gretchen Haley
Freedom has a rhythm to it
a longing our bodies know
a movement away
from everything small and scared,
a waking up to possibility,
healing backwards, and forwards
Even now, we are beginning again –
unafraid of this much mercy, tenderness, pleasure
we come to lean in,
to learn the sound of liberation
like the sound of our names
receiving, and releasing
We come to be free
for more than ourselves
to call love the greatest liberty
to sing of loyalty, courage, and
to remember we are all
doing the best
Despair hasn’t gotten us yet,
nor overwhelm –
Which is, a kind of miracle –
surrounded as we are
by this much
“A Survival Meditation” by Nathan C. Walker
The following meditation may begin and end with the sound of the mindfulness bell.
i am aware of my pain.
i am aware that i am not my pain.
i am aware of my past.
i am aware that i am not my past.
i am aware of my anger.
i am aware that i am not my anger.
i am aware of my despair.
i am aware that i am not my despair.
i am aware of peace.
i am aware that i am worthy of peace.
i am aware of love.
i am aware that i am worthy of love.
i am aware of joy.
i am aware that i am an agent of joy.
i am aware of hope.
i am aware that i am an agent of hope.
i am aware.
“Faultline” by Rev. Robert R. Walsh
Found in Noisy Stones: A Meditation Manual published by Skinner House 1992
Did you ever think there might be a fault line
passing underneath your living room:
A place in which your life is lived in meeting
and in separating, wondering
and telling, unaware that just beneath
you is the unseen seam of great plates
that strain through time? And that your life,
already spilling over the brim, could be invaded,
sent off in a new direction, turned
aside by forces you were warned about
but not prepared for? Shelves could be spilled out,
the level floor set at an angle in
some seconds’ shaking. You would have to take
your losses, do whatever must be done next.
When the great plates slip
and the earth shivers and the flaw is seen
to lie in what you trusted most, look not
to more solidity, to weighty slabs
of concrete poured or strength of cantilevered
beam to save the fractured order. Trust
more the tensile strands of love that bend
and stretch to hold you in the web of life
that’s often torn but always healing. There’s
your strength. The shifting plates, the restive earth,
your room, your precious life, they all proceed
from love, the ground on which we walk together.