TREE KNOWS ITS NAME

In preparation for the upcoming CenterQuest’s School of Spiritual Direction for Cohort 2, I was asked to offer a prayer of intercession for the cohort members on Zoom. The entire month’s prayer and fasting theme is based on Colossians 2:6-7. “As you therefore have received Christ Jesus the Lord, continue to live your lives in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving.” (NRSV) As I meditated, imagery of a tree and what a tree can teach us arose in me. As I wrote a prayer based on my reflection, I would like to share it. I believe the prayer includes all of us. If you resonate with the prayer, join me for all.

As the root of a tree teaches,
may we know to hold on to what matters most…

Lord, hear our prayer

May we also learn to embrace darkness…

                                    Lord, hear our prayer

As the leaves of a tree remind,
may we know to let go when the time comes…

            Lord, hear our prayer

May we also provide shade and rest for the weary…

                                    Lord, hear our prayer

As the branches of a tree instruct,
may we explore and extend beyond the known, beyond our comfort, and into the light…

            Lord, hear our prayer

May we also offer birds to perch, gaze into the distance, and build nests…

                                    Lord, hear our prayer

As the fruits of a tree present,
may we produce selfless love that nourishes and saves…

            Lord, hear our prayer

May we also multiply goodness and love beyond…

                                    Lord, hear our prayer

As the tree is silent but speaks with eloquence,
may we know how to speak in silence and in words…

            Lord, hear our prayer

As the tree only knows the present,
may we also stand in the present during storms, droughts, and sunshine…

            Lord, hear our prayer

Finally, as the tree knows its name,
may we also know our name…

            Lord, hear our prayer. . .  that our name is love…

A JOY MUSING

I just finished a six-week online course on Embracing Emotions through CenterQuest’s Lifelong Learning Community. This week’s blog is a further musing on joy.

Grace and I will be in Pasadena, California, from mid-July to mid-August, welcoming our second grandchild and celebrating our first grandchild’s (Jaelen Yunseul) first birthday. We anticipate a lot of family time, including some grandparent duties, which spell joy. 

Joy, as “the queen of emotions,” according to Karla McLaren, helps “one feel a blissful sense of open-hearted communion and connection to others, to ideas, or to experiences.” I appreciate the breadth of communion and connection that includes ideas or experiences. Joy is ultimately founded on the Trinitarian community; the uniqueness of my being meets the oneness of everything without losing my existential self. Joy, as a shared emotion, constantly seeks and waits to be one, one with the One or the One in Three and with everything.

Joy arises from both interior-led discipline, without demands, and exterior-led serendipity, without control. I echo Mary Oliver’s first two lines of her poem, Don’t Hesitate, “If you suddenly and unexpectedly feel joy, don’t hesitate. Give in to it.” The invitation is for me to be aware and to embrace the unexpected, the serendipitous, and the passing. I find this increasingly untrammeled and uncomplicated.

I “gave in to joy” through the cool ocean breeze on my face, making me “Aah,” on our most recent trip to the southern coast of Korea; the thought of facilitating Suji Enneagram with various groups; the sumptuous feasts that appeased my eyes and stomach, connecting me to nature’s bounty; special Father’s Day text messages; the happy daily ritual of peeking into our grandson’s world through Google Photos, praying for loved ones who are ill; promoting and interceding for CenterQuest School of Spiritual Direction Cohort 2; (btw, if you are interested in signing up for the program, there is still room as the registration closes by the end of July) and the anticipation of welcoming our second grandchild in less than two weeks.

Experiencing spring (fall is gorgeous, but I have come to treasure spring more) in Korea over the years has opened my eyes and my soul to a level of joy of connection and communion I did not know existed. Rainer Maria Rilke pens, “It is spring again. The earth is like a child that knows poems by heart.” Particularly, the morning walks, aided by crisp air, along the farmland by the small river, occasionally spotting elegant, fierce white and grey herons, have been transformative. My love for poetry exploded during this season, as nature became one of the best teachers. No wonder many poets and mystics were avid nature walkers, drawing inspiration and imagination.

Joy is my world colliding with the worlds of others and otherness, painting new horizons and redefining the meaning of my existence. Joy is a “living frontier” that captures “the sheer intoxicating beauty of the world inhabited as an edge between what we previously thought was us and what we thought was other than us.” (David Whyte) Once crossed, what was once a living frontier becomes a living place of “intoxicating beauty.” The gift of beauty can be found in human nature as well as in nature, which is to say everywhere. Joy, then, is the emotion that naturally arises in discovering the connection and communion between the two, it seems.

Joy is a face of communion and love. It cannot be acquired by trying but by giving away, paving the way for graceful reciprocity, as communion invites and insists. Joy is elusive and fleeting, yet it offers a deep, momentary expression of mutuality and love. The impermanence of such joy does not bother me; it invites me to be present and to enjoy the gift of joy as it comes. Joy enters and leaves as it likes, serving as a glorious reminder of whose we are and how to navigate this life with zest, openness, and childlike wonder.

LOVE, OUR HOME

It is Monday morning here, back in a familiar cafe in my neighborhood in Yangpyeong, Korea. The afterglow from the Closing Residency is bright and persistent. One of the constant routines of my life over the last eighteen months has evaporated like a sweet dream, bewildering me. . . For this week’s entry, I decided to share the speech I gave on the last night of the Closing Residency. It was a great honor to represent the cohort alongside Corinne, a classmate.

I thought I would provide a bit of context for some of the imagery and language below. First, the image of the river and the ocean comes from a poem titled Fear by Khalil Gibran, which I highlighted during the theological reflection module. Then the first line of my poem below comes from a game we played during the Opening Residency in December 2024, “Who is your neighbor?” Finally, the word "Opalite" by Taylor Swift has its origin in a surprise dance number that seven of us did, which elevated joy, fun, and celebration to a climactic level. Thank you for journeying with me.

CenterQuest Asia School of Spiritual Direction Cohort 1
Grad Speech

Rivers were us, having traveled through layered forests, enchanted villages, pinnacles, and deep gorges of life. We are about to merge with the ocean, vast, fearful, mysterious, and generous. We are all meant not only to merge but to become the ocean, with all the unique journeys we coursed through intact.

CQ Asia’s commitment to an ecumenical stance provided a safe and generous space, which enabled seeing and embracing my unique journey more deeply and widely. Additionally, its commitment to creating and safeguarding a hospitable communal space allowed all to be known and loved, empowering us to extend such a sacred calling to the world. It is no small thing in today’s context to be who we are meant to be, not who we are supposed to be or even aspire to be. CQ Asia’s communal space, I believe, unleashed a love movement from courage to freedom to service.

And service we do. We exist not only for our life’s sake, but for the sake of the world. The ocean reminds us that we are already in union with God. It is “Christ in me” and “I in Christ.” What we do, then, is not our doing but Christ who lives in us. Ultimately, love is who we are, and love is what we do.

––––––––––––––

Love, Our Home

“I love all men,” shouted a nun, 

chaos erupted, a frenzy of laughter 

unbridled joy took the center stage like 

carefree children at play who know a thing or two about joy ecstasy, 

the opalite sky kind

Children know a thing or two about 

looking and listening,
looking and listening we did

alone, together

with silent pauses and solitary punctuations

We can see because we listen

We can listen because we see

We see and listen as things are, not as we are

That is a good thing, 

for that is how our Father comes to us

the world offers sophisticated seeing and listening

shining shekels, subtleties, seductions, surety

Silent, savvy, spry our Father is

patiently waiting for those who linger, look, listen

Children we were

children we are

who shout we love everything our Father created

including all humanity

chaos will erupt,
a frenzy of laughter will return

so will joy ecstasy

All along, lurking and holding everything together,

Love was the stage, our home.