Fall Essays 2024

Blinks and Winks

When we blink, we usually do so unconsciously, except when something either gets in our eyes or we put drops in them and rapidly raise and lower our eyelids. Winking is almost always a conscious act of communication when we briefly lower one eyelid while we are looking directly at someone. We all blink continually throughout our waking hours but many of us hardly ever give a wink to someone, in contrast to those few for whom winking is a personality characteristic. Finally, blinks can be revelatory of some of our feelings without our having any choice, while winks are completely voluntary attempts to convey personal intentions.

Reflecting on winks and blinks may broaden our awareness of just one of the very many gifts given to us by an infinitely loving God who delights in the manifold possibilities of even such ordinary behavior. For starters, think of some winks that make you smile, like that of the stereotypical person in a comedy who is trying to make an impression on a stranger. Closer to family life, winking at a little child can elicit anything from intense curiosity to open laughter. In a different direction, recall giving or receiving a wink that conveyed “I know what you mean, and I am with you.” Or in a public setting where saying anything would be problematic, a wink that effectively communicates “You are fine.” Our search of memories and creative imaginings can find many ways when a wink has served or can serve as an honest and inspired means of delivering a private one-to-one message.

Except when we are looking in a mirror or leave the “selfie” image on when in a Zoom session, we probably do not know when our blinking rate modifies according to whichever feelings we experience at those times. In watching others’ faces, we can reasonably assume that we do the same when it comes to unconscious blinking activity. Most of us, when asked a question that requires concentration, or especially one that is directly personal, will blink rapidly. By contrast, when we perceive eminent danger or perceive a threat, we might hardly blink at all, commonly compared to being “a deer in the headlights.” We learn to notice these involuntary movements, which help us to recognize unspoken realities more about someone’s feelings than about the meaning of the words that are spoken.

We might also reflect about blinks and winks in our communications with God. Our unconscious blinking rate normally changes in response to the thoughts and feeling that occur in us when we pray, especially in those times when we are in heartfelt petitions or are becoming deeply settled and peaceful. But this of little concern to us. However, we might learn something about the familiarity of our relationship with God if we can imagine how God might wink at us on occasion, and even how we might wink at God.

If we watch a drama where the intent is to have us identify with characters who are greatly threatened, the music and imagery make our hearts beat faster, our faces become flushed, our breathing rate increases, and our stomach muscles tighten, just as if we, rather than the actors, were in imminent danger.

We recognize these symptoms, and others that are familiar to us, whenever our anxiety level is raised. Like anger, this strong emotion provides energy for action and is therefore beneficial if a threat is real and looming and if we can take some action to diminish the threat. However, if we can do nothing to alleviate the situation, then we might have no practical use for the energy, and the stressful symptoms may remain and inhibit behavior that would be reasonable and according to our values. There must be another and better way for us to deal with high anxiety.

Running away might be a good option when facing a fire, flood, or avoidable danger, but many of the most anxiety-causing occurrences that affect us are such that we cannot avoid them and it would not be helpful to deny their existence, attempt to evade personal responsibility, or to self-medicate and ineffectually block our awareness of them. Rather, we need to acknowledge the certainty of our feelings without losing contact with the deeper reality of our purpose and values in general, and specifically the ultimate truth of our love.

In the moments of most acute anxiety, when we are intensely aware of our feelings, God is with us more closely than could be even the most caring person right next to us. For God’s love is accompanied by complete knowledge and understanding of who we are, from within us: in our minds, bodies, and spirits. So, when we think about God as being present to us and ask for help in dealing with our immediate concerns, swift and certain assistance follows, and not just in terms of compassion, however welcome and supportive that might be. In addition, we are often given graced use of our minds and memories to think or act reasonably and well in response to the causes of our anxiety.

Most of us move on as quickly as possible after an episode of high anxiety, and rightly so. There are no benefits from dwelling on pain. However, while we are at peace, it can be quite helpful to look back on how we have been graced in some past event and to express gratitude for however we came to freedom in that situation. Such a memory of a pain that relates to healing is very helpful for dealing more quickly with any future episodes that might take place for us and provides us with wisdom that can be shared with others who also encounter painful experiences of high anxiety.

“Play” and “pray” sound much alike and sometimes we might unintentionally substitute one for the other when we are talking, usually to our amusement but sometimes to our embarrassment. We rightly distinguish the meaning of one from the other, but we might play with the words and obtain joy in the discovery of some complementary meanings. If we were to insist on the separateness of the two meanings, we would perhaps maintain a dictionary kind of truth but miss the delight of mind and heart that come from finding a touch of unity in diversity. Knowledge can be shared with Artificial Intelligence, but the joy of unique insights is the prerogative of human spirituality. 

When we play, we can at one time be serious, and playful at another. When we pray, we can certainly be serious, but perhaps we do not think of ourselves as ever being playful. Playing is associated with something we do freely. At our best, praying is also an exercise of freedom, and not that of obligation. When we are praying in an awareness of the love of God, some of us discover that playfulness enters in as spontaneously as it does in a family or friendship where trust is deep. In our relationships with one another, some of our play, especially with words and concepts, is not planned, but occurs in the moment, and sometimes continues for an enjoyable and love-increasing exchange. Imagine something similar taking place in prayer. To do so, we might first imagine God smiling at such behavior, as we do with one another, or to simply accept that God who creates us in his image and likeness and consequently gives us the capability of loving playfulness.

From another perspective, we might recognize that sometimes praying is playing, emphasizing not only the complete freedom with which we come to prayer, but our purpose of just being together, and open to the possibility of discovering new meanings of the words we use that draw us closer to God through the shared experience. Whether we have thought of it this way before or not, many people who pray with a Scripture passage, pondering the meaning of words and phrases, find themselves gently guided to thinking of alternative meanings, some of which are quite pleasing. In a similar way, we might bring our own words to prayer and receive gentle guidance to try other words and expressions that delight us with their deeper and more accurate way of conveying what is in our hearts.

When we let ourselves be openly who we are in prayer, playfulness can readily enter our exchange with God, as children can be with adults when they know that they are loved. For us, we might need to remind ourselves, at the very beginning of our prayer, that we are welcome to be present with all-encompassing, non-judgmental Love, and then find out how “play” and “pray” fit together.

When most of us see the word “gobble,” we likely first think of turkeys, of their supposed sounds, and of Thanksgiving gatherings of family and friends for the holiday. We could also think of the other meaning of the word, as when someone in a hurry might gobble some food and hurry off to whatever is next. At any meal when we give thanks, we probably will not gobble whatever we eat, but rather, occupy ourselves with thoughtfulness as we listen and speak with those who are present. And when we speak, just as how our mothers taught us, we would not do so with our mouths full, lest we sound like turkeys.

In keeping with the human capacity for expanding the use of words, we can speak of gobbling words and ideas, even gobbling artistic works, scenery, and relationships, all of them related to individuals’ behavior of taking something for oneself, but neither truly enjoying the occasions, nor caring much for others who might be there. The last thing we might think of, but could perhaps unconsciously participate in, would be gobbling spiritual goods.

Rather than exploring any of these negative possibilities, we can do far better for ourselves and others by giving conscious thought to how we engage actively in our spiritual pursuits, doing so more like we would want to do at a special gathering and meal such as at Thanksgiving, or at any event where we want to add to it by how we engage with those who attend. This can apply to participating in a religious service, but also to any gathering where faith is intentionally shared.

Meals are often places, where, when few or many are gathered, we know one another well enough so that we can give voice to our many concerns and interests, and include perspectives of our trust in God, our beliefs in Goodness that transcends all the smallness and messiness as well as the greatness and generosity of humankind. “Where there is love, there is God” becomes a reality among us when we care enough about one another to share some of the truths by which we live. Public approval is not needed by believers to carry in our minds and hearts the power for living as loving persons that is a consequence of our relationship with God but sharing our experiences of God with those who openly accept them is quite affirming.

Some religious services, in particular celebrations of the Eucharist, are consciously established in the context of a meal. All who participate in any manner of manifesting their faith, even if only by being present, share in the Love of God that is not just spoken about, but is given directly from God’s heart to ours: the ultimate Thanksgiving meal.

We have pictures and movies of ocean waves, including some with surfboarders upon them. When we think of air waves, we have no images to satisfy our imaginations, only the knowledge that radio, tv, radar, and other devices depend upon invisible movements through the air that are similar, but radically different than that of surfers on the ocean. There are no scientifically verifiable air waves, although the air is in continual motion. However, we needed a name for explaining how light, sound, and other detectable phenomena could move from one physical location to another, and air waves served well for the purpose of explaining invisible realities. 

How is love transmitted from one person to another? Over air waves? For love surely is as real as all the electromagnetic motions and the devices that depend upon them. Few of us concern ourselves with the question of how love moves among us, but it is very important that we know whether we are communicating our love effectively and how well we recognize love when it is present.

One of the traits attributed to air waves is that they carry information almost instantaneously from almost any place on earth to any other. When we think of love, it is not in terms of time or distance travelled, for we are considering a spiritual movement, not something involving matter which although unseen ultimately involves elements of the universe that have limitations of time and space. Love is not of this sort, for there are no means of measuring it, although we might say that we love one person or thing more than another.

When we pause to consider the power of love and of all that we do and are willing to do because of love, we come to appreciate it for the gift it is. Like the wind, we sense its effects, but cannot see it. We know when it is present and when it is not, both in our intentions and in our perceptions of the intentions of others. Our sensitivity to love grows through reflection on our experience, identifying sincere goodness as manifestations of love and insincere manipulation as anything but love. Learning about the transmission of love in this way does not make us more critical or judgmental of others, for we become ever more confident that such thinking is neither loving nor good for anyone.

The more we ponder this gift of love, the easier it is to sense how all-enveloping it is, and with that, a peaceful recognition of God’s love for us which enables to love ourselves and others. The Jesuit practice of beginning a daily reflection on our recent activities by looking first at gifts and blessings, is simply an exercise of becoming aware of our experiences of love in a variety of manifestations, all of them ultimately participations in God, who is love.

We are familiar with the concept of marriage and can likely recall the last marriage we participated in or attended. We also know that the word is applied by analogy to a variety of unions, such as the marriage of two different ideas that makes for a line of thinking combining the best of both, or the marriage of one piece of equipment with another so that together they make a useful whole.

When we marry concepts or material things, we expect them to stay together in the unity that was achieved. The marriage of such things is completed. When two people marry, the marriage event concludes, but that is only the beginning of what we mean by a marriage. Two persons are not things that are placed permanently together. Rather, in marriage, two individuals continue the marriage by their ongoing decisions in favor of what they have begun. For humans, marriage is what two people do, not something that is done.

Because we humans are not just material but also spiritual, any move in the direction of unity among us, including marriage, arises from love. We cannot be put together like pieces of wood that are glued and pressed into a single board. Instead, we enter relationships freely and deliberately. Not only do we make many small decisions in the direction of forming mutual bonds that are motivated by love, but we are also capable of life-long commitments. We continue to live them out, sometimes through conscious choices, sometimes habits, and more mysteriously, sometimes without awareness of our radical decision that continues in force even in challenging circumstances. Married people, family members, close friends, deeply bonded persons in various careers sometimes become aware of just how deeply committed they have become over time and are surprised and consoled in realizing it.

Although we are not put together like two different substances in the various kinds of mutual bonds of which we are capable, our freedom to choose is greatly enhanced by interior movements of inspirations, graces, or callings as we may call them. Prior to whatever we might think is our initial decision to speak or act in a caring way for another person, we often experience a kind of gentle invitation that inclines us to so speak or act. This movement within our minds and hearts is peaceful, never coercive for it is God in us.

Marriage is the best image for the closeness of God to us, since those who love another only want what is best for the other, but do not impose their vision of whatever they believe to be best. God is closer to us than any human can possibly be, loves us always even in all our non-reciprocal ways, and gently continues to offer us those initial movements to fulfill our purpose in life: to love. 

We are likely familiar with the expression “voting with your feet,” which could well describe a group of people who walk out on some event they find disturbing to their values. We probably have been subjected to many requests to fill out some form of survey or poll in which to provide answers about our preferences. We also vote by providing responses to legally sanctioned ballots in civil elections, giving expression to our own personal choices. If we reflect on our manner of making these decisions, we know that sometimes we do so with much serious consideration, and at other times with scarcely any deliberation at all.

If we vote for favorite movie stars or sports stars in a survey, we do not need to spend time pondering various characteristics of many stars, because we have already made those decisions, and the votes only express recreational preferences of little consequence for anyone, even if we feel very strongly about our favorites. However, when we vote for a person to receive some kind of honor or position of authority, we want to include in our considerations the effects of our votes not only on the candidates, but also on the larger community of people who will in some way be affected. We accept that decisions like these are not simply about our personal preferences, but also the good of whatever community might be involved.

Some votes are advisory, as when we provide information to an organization of people who will do with it whatever they want. Shopping surveys are only one example of information-gathering that we take quite lightly as compared to a binding vote in which we often include concern for our own good as well as for the common good. Because this is so, we likely need to observe our mixed motivations carefully lest we base our decisions almost exclusively on the narrow perspective of self-interests. These decisions are ours to make, but they can be much more confidently ours when we seek to form them in conscious union with the enveloping love and knowledge of God.

Including God in our voting can be simple and direct, guided by the gentle movements in our hearts that arise when we quietly attend to what is within us, sometimes asking God directly to enlighten us. Doing this is far more than merely consulting an authority for advice. Instead, we discover the truth of God in us that enables us to peacefully decide how we will vote. The peace in our hearts confirms the conclusion as being truly ours in the deepest sense of that word.

Voting with God guarantees the best that we can do.

More of us have read about, rather than participated in, a legal hearing where someone is asked to state clearly what they know to be true. For those of us with reasonably good hearing capabilities, we likely depend far more on what we hear than we might think, because we are so aware of what we see. There is no comparison between hearing and seeing, they are such different senses, but we may not recognize how much significant information we receive from hearing as compared with seeing. However, reflection upon some of our experiences of hearing can easily arouse wonder and gratitude.

Even before we were old enough to understand the meaning of words, we not only heard, but associated them with positive and negative feelings. Now that we have language skills, we still do the same, associating spoken words with meanings that affect us, sometimes minimally and at other times quite deeply. No matter how many of us hear the same words, each of us receives what is said according to our unique set of values and previous experiences. This does not mean that one person hears “stop!” and understands it as a command, and another takes it as an invitation to leave. Rather we all understand that the speaker’s intention is for us to immediately stop whatever we are doing. Where we likely differ then, is in how we respond. One may trust the speaker, another might not. One might almost always comply with a command, someone else might be highly resistant to any exercise of authority. Hearing is passive, providing us with information. But we each decide how to act in response to whatever we hear. 

Sounds other than words also bear significant meaning for us more immediately than through concepts. For example, we could be walking on a sidewalk and hear a rumbling sound behind us. Without knowing what it is, we would likely step aside, even before looking to see if it might be a skateboarder or something else. First, we respond, later we learn what caused the sound. This kind of behavior is, upon reflection, a graced mystery similar to that of our being so adept at learning to speak, read, and write. Blind people develop their understanding of sounds more highly than most of us, but all of us who can hear rely on our interpretation of sounds, such as approaching traffic at a pedestrian crossing, a child’s crying, or the opening of a door. We base much of what we do on our perceptions of the various sounds we hear during all our waking hours, and sometimes even when we are asleep.

Few of us receive verbal messages from God, nor do we receive significant insights in spoken words. Most of our perceptions of love are analogous with hearing, interpreting with our hearts whatever messages we receive that enlighten our spirits.

There are many kinds of tablecloths, corresponding to the multiplicity of tables on which cloths are placed: everything from small hall tables onto which people might toss car keys and bags, to restaurant tables, display tables, dining room tables and altar tables. Some people put a cloth covering on almost every table in their home, others keep one or two cloths for use only on special occasions. Some almost always use a tablecloth at an evening meal while others never do so. The most predictable use of tablecloths other than in hotel dining rooms might well be for altars, both domestic and those found in places of worship.

Like personal clothing which is partly practical but also a means of social communication, tablecloths can be casual or formal, plain or decorated, common in the sense of being useful for many different sized tables, or custom designed for specific purposes. Tables do not cover or decorate themselves, so tablecloths always reveal something about us in how we do or do not make use of them. Tablecloths can sometimes be so taken for granted that we are not conscious of their presence, but we might become quite aware of their absence, as when we enter a dining area where we expected there would be a cloth on the table, or when we find that there is none on an altar that is set aside for public worship or private devotion. Family members who have traditions surrounding holidays often have strong emotional attachments to how some tablecloths are or are not used in their homes.

We are likely conscious of how we dress for various occasions, likely more formally for a wedding or a major public event and more casually for whatever we do in our own homes, although the degree of formality and informality is far from being the same for all of us. We probably think less about how we clothe tables, but we use the same criteria for tables as for personal clothing, for both are means of conveying attitudes about ourselves and our relationships with others. Some of us might be more concerned about self-expression at times, and at other times we can be focused on pleasing others. We dress accordingly and so too with our preferences regarding tablecloths.

There is no dress code for what we will wear when we are relating with God who is present everywhere, but when it comes to sharing experiences of faith and love that include transcendent aspects, it is not surprising that we would dress ourselves and the tables involved to express our sense of reverence, gratitude, and significance at these events.

Even the plainest of cloth coverings seems to dignify whatever we celebrate at a table.

If most of us were to hear the word “high” without any context, most of us would assume that the word was the informal greeting, “Hi.” However, if we and the speaker were looking at a building, we would know immediately, without explanation, that the intent was to give an estimate of the building’s comparative height. When we think about having high goals and aspirations, we mean much more than one trait that could be contrasted with another. “High” in terms of interior characteristics includes such traits as personal commitment, an intention to carefully select one’s goals and aspirations, and a willingness to set priorities of time and effort towards fulfillment of the aims and ambitions that are chosen.

Seeking to achieve more of ourselves than might be required or expected by others usually entails courage and an implicit acceptance of the stresses and discomfort that accompany reaching further than our present stance in life. Almost any decision to reach beyond where we are right now involves these aspects of “high,” even if only to a small degree as when someone makes the determination to add a little more exercise to daily routines, or to regularly spend a few minutes of silent reflection, or to form a habit of consuming fewer drinks that are packaged in throw-away containers.

When we speak of a building or a mountain as high, we refer to a physical quality that can be measured and compared with others of the same kind. For interior desires and attitudes, there are no ways of measuring them, and there is no end point for them as there is for the limited height of a building or a mountain. Putting a high value on honesty, for example, leaves us always open to becoming more honest with ourselves and with others as we enact that value over time.

However, choosing to have high expectations of our behavior in terms of being kind to others, for example, does not consign us to becoming perfectionists, who continually compete with ourselves. “High” is not the same as “highest,” and even though our high goals and aspirations can include everything from self-improvement to love of all people, the open-endedness of consciously choosing high rather than low aspirations matches beautifully with the reality of how we can continue to grow and improve in all spiritual aspects of our lives even in diminishment and weakness right up to our final days.

Just as unused muscles atrophy, while some stress on muscles keeps them alive and more exercise causes growth, so accepting challenges to our faith, hope, and love enlivens us and supports us in lifting up the lives of those with whom are in contact in any way.

Notifications

Some of us are pleased to have our electronic devices deliver visual and/or audible notifications to us when incoming messages become available. Others turn off or disable some or all these notifications. Each of us makes such choices according to our own preferences. However, in social situations, especially with cell phones, consideration of others becomes a factor. Most of us have heard, and in some manner been affected by, notification sounds from unsilenced cell phones during Church services, public meetings and entertainment venues, restaurants, classrooms, and almost any place other than those where such devices are prohibited. Finally, many of us have had conversations at table interrupted by those who respond to notifications that are not emergencies. Notifications can be welcome for the intended recipients but unwelcome by others who are within hearing distance of those who receive the cues.

We could reflect at this point on cell phone courtesy, or we could consider a different sort of notifications that are much more private in nature and for which the consequences of allowing or disallowing them are far greater than with anything that could occur with electronic devices. All of us receive the equivalent of notifications within our minds every day, no matter what names we might use for them. Our awareness of these occurrences can vary quite widely, but they happen frequently as inspirations, original thoughts, flashes of insight, sudden inclinations to speak or act in a situation, and other recognizable but not always consciously accepted interior movements. Such notifications are real and meaningful events, the more positively influential when we attend to them.

While we are free to welcome or equivalently dismiss these thoughts that suddenly appear in our minds, they are not an app, and we cannot turn them on or off although we can ignore or accept them, and by learning to recognize their benefits, we can set ourselves to increased receptiveness. If we recall some recent experiences that match with what is described, we might not think of them in terms of word-categories, such as inspirations, insights, and the like. However, they take on much significance as we recognize those movements that seem good when they come to us, and result in good when we act on them.

Notifications like these cannot of themselves affect anyone around us in either a positive or negative manner, although our honest and sometimes spontaneous responses to some of these interior messages may indeed impact others. As we have likely learned, even some of our words and deeds that flowed directly from such input and seemed wholly good and appropriate to us might not have been always perceived that way by others. Such experiences do not detract from the goodness of both the impulses and our responses but confirm the reality that we are not responsible for knowing how others will understand whatever we say or do.

Attending carefully to notifications that come directly into our minds is a graceful spiritual practice.

We might at times send greeting cards to family, friends, or associates, and we greet people who come to visit us. We may occasionally use the word itself as an expression of welcome. When we offer greetings, we express in words and gestures our acknowledgements of others according to the unique relationships we have with them at that time. All such greetings are positive, but they differ according to our respect or affection for each person we address and our perceptions of how we might be received by them. 

If we reflect on some of our experiences of giving and receiving greetings, we will likely recall some that are especially pleasing and worth remembering. Although we encounter many people, and may wish all of them well, only those that touch our hearts in some fashion will normally come to mind in a spontaneous look at our past. We might be moved to gratitude for the good relationships in which those greetings were offered and received.

Some of us have our own ways of greeting God, especially at the beginning of a day, but at any time when we become aware of a loving Presence. For some, this might be without words, relying on God’s complete awareness of our every thought and intention. Others may use words, whether from Scripture or Liturgical expressions, or in written prayers and songs. Since whatever we do within our minds and hearts is between us and God, our expressions of greetings are only limited by our own sensitivities. There is no universal rule that would tell us whether we might say “Hi,” “Good morning,” or “Nice day.” But when it comes to the varying ways that we experience the closeness of God, any endearing name or inclination of our hearts that might occur to us is acceptable to the one who gives us the capacity to think and to love.

Making a sign of the cross is a frequent Christian greeting that is offered to God at the beginning of prayer, but prior to all prayer of any kind by anyone, the initial inclination to relate directly with God always begins from God. Faith is not a possession of ours that we rely on when we pray. It is a continual movement of God’s initiative within us, opening that channel of communication. Otherwise, we would have no way of relating directly with God.

From our side, we might find it consoling to consider what forms God’s greetings take in our minds and hearts. They are always positively welcoming, uniquely personal, and often wordless.  Our hearts are likely moved with a touch of joy whenever loved ones greet us, whether we have been expecting them or they suddenly contact us. When we receive greetings from God, we can sense that we are loved, and move more readily into prayer.

Whenever a friend or associate shows that they understand and appreciate the stresses that affect us we often sense that our burdens not only seem lighter, but really are that way. We may be doing something that only we can do at the time, yet the knowledge that even one other person respects us, removes the sense that we are alone. We may not think that this would make a difference, but if we reflect on our experiences, we might recognize that it is so.

When, for example, we show appreciation for someone else whose workload is heavy, we do not thereby take away some of what they need to do, but the effects of our expression of care might very well be visible in their smile or slight change of posture. Their workload has become lighter, however slightly that might be, because of our words and actions, whether we had thought about it or not. The same is true for us, when we are on the receiving end of compassionate understanding.

We know, at a level usually outside our consciousness, that although we all have our own personal responsibilities that cannot be shared, we go about them with a lighter heart depending upon the value we place on our efforts not just for ourselves, but also for others. Any immediate sign of acknowledgement by even one other person reinforces this awareness. Also, we may be familiar with how the weight of our responsibilities is made lighter whenever we call to mind someone who loves us and appreciates what we are doing and why we are doing it.

We are usually not surprised when family, friends, and associates whom we know to be supportive in general might offer encouragement, understanding, or caring presence when we are more than ordinarily challenged by internal or external concerns. We might reasonably expect and even seek their sensitive appreciation for us when we find our circumstances to be personally difficult. Some of us have also learned that God is not only such a support but relates with us in ways that are uniquely appropriate for our specific needs, even if we cannot clearly identify what they are.

Those who are close know us to varying degrees and can often relate with our experiences that are somewhat like theirs. God’s knowledge of us and love for us are not only total, but like email and text messages that can arrive at any time, are there for us whenever we are willing to attend to them. All we need to do is pause, and interiorly look towards God, to become aware of a Presence that enlightens our minds and hearts so that all is lighter for us.