Joanne Spence
Decluttering does more than just clear the physical space.
Recently, I came across some photos from my early yoga journey around 2000 as I was cleaning and reducing my possessions.
I have been experiencing lament and gratitude simultaneously in the last few weeks.
Upon waking most mornings of late, I read the morning’s headlines and weep. It would be easy to fall into despair. But like you, I have work to do, people to care for, deadlines to meet. I don’t want to numb myself with busyness (as I am apt to do). Instead, I have decided to participate in the ancient practice of lament. It’s the only practice that makes sense to me right now.
What is lament? The Merriam-Webster Dictionary describes lament as both a noun and a verb. As a noun, lament means a passionate expression of grief and sorrow or a song, piece of music, or poem expressing grief and sorrow. As a verb, lament means to express passionate grief about something or to express regret or disappointment about something.
I am immediately reminded of the Psalms of the Bible. Often, we are more familiar with the Psalms that offer prayers of thanksgiving that talk about God’s majesty and greatness. But there are just as many Psalms that are prayers for help. I started to see that the Psalms cover the whole range of human emotions – even anger, rage, and despair. The psalmist’s distress is evident for all to see and hear.
I offer you a paraphrasing of Psalm 46.
A Prayer of Lament
Riffing on Psalm 46
Our Beloved
The Beloved
Whose beloved are you?
Are you the beloved of the
Palestinians?
Are you the beloved of the Israelis?
Indeed, the earth is changing.
Where is the holy habitation of the most high?
I believe you are in our midst
Because you say you are.
I believe you are an ever-present help.
I truly want to believe that you are
breaking through hearts of stone.
Then I think of my own
Stubborn heart
And I wonder
If you are the infinite Heart of Love
How can I even know that with my
Tiny finite mind?
The Psalmist assures us you reign
Even, or could it also read, in spite
Of humanities desolation.
You say, “Be still and know that I am love.”
But we won’t be still
Instead, we work till we drop
Believing it is necessary to our calling
and even our salvation.
But in you all hearts
You are with us.
Oh beloved help us, ALL of US find
Your refuge and your strength.
Amen.
My Writing
In this season I am also writing each day about death and dying. It is equal parts difficulty- and grace-filled. I don’t really know anybody who finds it easy to face their own mortality. I know I have avoided thinking about death unless it was unavoidable and truly in-my-face, which is surprisingly very little for someone who is nearly sixty. Yet, I am finding that reading and listening to people’s experience of thinking about death - being with a loved one at their death and what led up to their passing - has filled me with awe and reverence. That’s the part I call grace-filled. And I still feel the sacredness even of those stories that are difficult – even the ones wracked in pain and pathos. I hold all of them close to my heart, and I bear witness again to the moment of someone’s transition from life to death.
When I am not listening to or writing down these stories, I walk, I breathe, I move my body in some way. The movement seems to metabolize the emotional nature and bigness of the stories. I drink lots of tea. I nap. I cook. I see my afternoon clients. I read. I sing. I sleep. I clean and declutter. I pray. I celebrate others – births, deaths, book launches, and birthdays. The latter helps me from getting too caught up in my own thoughts and woes. It’s all a delicate balance.
I expect this pattern will continue in this season of writing about death.
Here’s a 7 minute practice to support you on your journey this month.
And there’s apples. LOTS of apples. My husband is officially the apple sauce king. He not only enjoys eating apple sauce, but he finds it soothing to pare and chop the apples. He adds only cinnamon and occasionally some vanilla essence. It is the best I’ve ever eaten.
Books, Words, and Writing
Even as a writer, it’s hard to put into words just how good Lori Jakiela’s latest memoir, “They Write Your Name On A Grain of Rice” is. To know her writing is to love her writing. It’s quirky, poignant, and has more references to literature and pop culture than I can keep up with. Her writing is disarming really, and then you get the old one-two emotional punch. It’s hard to read because of the blur of tears. But you keep going back for more because you have to know that she is Okay and that Newman is Okay and that they live to write another day. It’s worth running over to Riverstone Books or your favorite indie book store and buying it. Make yourself a cup of tea, get your laprug (or lapdog) and your tissues, and be prepared to have a good cry and enjoy yourself.
My Next Book
My next book will be released June 21, 2024.
I am so excited to be Catherine Cook-Cottone’s co-author on this project.
You will hear more on this one closer to release date.
Ways to Connect With Me
I am seeing clients one-on-one for yoga therapy or spiritual direction. You can contact me at joyogi5@gmail.com to make an appointment. I have spaces available Monday through Thursday from 1.00-4.30 pm.
If you have enjoyed either of my books, please consider leaving a short review (1-3 sentences) here or here. It really helps.
As always, thanks for reading this far.
Keep moving and breathing and finding moments that you are grateful for.
Until next month –
With love,
Joanne
P. S. Last mention as a beautiful ways to spend your Sunday evening. This Sunday, November, 19, 7pm.
Event by Poranguí. I am going. It is going to be amazing.
25 Carrick Ave, Pittsburgh, PA 15210-4321