Relearning Presence (Again)

Some of the companions on my interior journey strangely enough are podcast hosts. I have never met any of them and some I have only a brief outline of who they are in the world. But I know that their stories and the people that they interview are all leading me to a deeper understanding of the divine. All are Christian, most are Catholic, and many are students of Ignatian Spirituality. Despite our limited understanding of each other, they walk with me and guide my thoughts and possible next steps. One of my favorite questions from these interviewers is “What is the lesson that you are continually learning?” I get quiet and lean in. Just the knowledge that other people in the world, and especially these faith leaders and mystics just can’t seem to get it right the first time around consoles me. I am not alone when I realize that God or the world is presenting me again and again with the same exercise to learn and commit to memory. As I wait for the interviewee’s response, I too attempt to answer the question and search for that single thing that keeps presenting itself, the one thing that I keep trying to learn once and for all. Much like the early reader who forgets how the letter r changes the vowel sound in car, stir, or fur, I too put my palm to my forehead and say “Oh yeah, I forgot again.” My answer to this question of repeated learning is one word, presence. But sometimes the divine feeds it to me in two word phrases- anything that will serve as a mnemonic device to aid my retention. Sometimes it is “pay attention.” But more recently, the direction is even more clear and nearly impossible to ignore, “Stay here.”

In morning prayer as my mind wanders off to the weather, or plans for the day, the request makes itself known: stay here, stay with me, stay with your thought. Stay here and be present to God, to your prayer, to the scripture. As I walk the dog or hike in the woods, my eyes raise to the path ahead and lift ever so slightly upward, I feel myself subconsciously move several steps ahead of my feet. I hear it again: stay here. See these plants, these people, these birds. Feel the sun bathing you in warmth, the light breeze skidding across your face and arms; stay here. In my reading, I find myself thumbing through the pages ahead to see when the next chapter begins. Stay here with these words, this essay, this writer.

I know I am not alone in this unlearned lesson. The world moves rapidly, the modern news cycle is only current for a matter of minutes or hours. Stories of our friends and family that we really do want to see show up on social media for a single day. Time begins to feel like a magic trick; poof! And it’s gone. There are so many distractions that seem to want only to draw our attention away from our primary focus - neighborhood noises, kids, pets, the undone “to do” list. Our brain’s only job is to think new thoughts one after the other after the other and it has mastered this skill. It is adept at quick movements that keep us skimming across the surface of life when what we really want and need to do is to dive deep.

Each time this notion of presence comes back around I am hopeful that I’ll finally get it this time. These two words, “stay here" are my current mantra. It echoes in my head throughout the day as if I have found myself in some unseen canyon. They reappear in the form of a question at my end of the day examen while I review the events and interchanges and assess my attentiveness to people and ideas that have crossed my path.

Ignatius was on to something when he identified the Jesuits as contemplatives in action. He too was looking for ways for the novices to pay attention, to stay here, to seek and find God in all things - this prayer, this bird, this step on the path. His lessons teach us to linger throughout the days of our lives, linger as we walk through the world and see all there is to see, linger in our prayer and allow time so that we might move deeper in love. We, the humans who hurry, expect the same of our time with God. But the Spirit wants more than a moment with us. We are building a relationship, a friendship and that requires a bit extra. We sit, open ourselves up to receive whatever it is that God has waiting for us and in seconds or minutes, feeling nothing, lose our drive to receive it and are ready to move on. No, God calls us to stay here, to wait, to linger. It is in that waiting that our hearts and minds have the time to open up to the stillness, to the emptying out of our earthly schedules and concerns and there is space for the divine to enter in. This is the algorithm that “stay here” puts into action throughout the day - talking to friends and family, walking the dog, Zoom meetings. Become aware of your place in space, and sit back and wait, give it time and just see what will be revealed. All it takes is a bit of patience; the reward is beyond expectations.

Recently in taking my morning walk I accidentally experienced this “stay here” in a more simplistic and mundane way. Instead of my regular route, I decided to instead take several trips around the Rose Garden before returning home.This was not planned, and ordinarily I would fight against the boredom of walking the same sidewalks repeatedly. Was it God’s lead?; I have no idea. I can only speak to the end result and how it connects to this lesson of presence. What I began to notice was the little community that gets created in this confined space and time as you greet the same people repeatedly as compared to the experience of one and done. You look forward to the smile that is coming right at you or the “Good morning” with the unusual accent that sets the man in the black shirt apart from the one in the gray one. People begin to have personalities that you are learning by experiencing them over and over again. As you browse over the clumpings of red,white and yellow roses, you notice for the first time the additional tones of peach, apricot, and coral. There is more to see because you decided to stay, to repeat, to wait.

I invite you to try out your own mantras that convince you to stay and take in the presence of the divine and vice versa. This is at least round three for me:

Pay attention

Linger

Stay here

.