Here is picture of the young Frasier Fir tree (Abies fraseri) I bought yesterday. The nursery folks even decorated it with a little red Christmas bow. Frasier Firs are one of a few kinds of traditional Christmas trees, the branches leaving lots of room for hanging ornaments. But this tree is for planting outside, not for chopping. While it waits for me to find the right spot, with the maximum of sunshine, I am reminded of the need for prayer.
Gatha is a prayer-form found in Buddhism but not prayers as we often understand them in the west - some sentences (maybe out of a book) telling God what we need God to do for us. A gatha instead is a little verse that sums up or highlights a spiritual concept. Without using theological terms (a kind of foreign language to many) it is immediately accessible to the soul.
A gatha usually features some ordinary aspect of life, helping us to be mindful of what we're doing in the movements and encounters of everyday. What we're REALLY doing. A gatha invites us to be aware of the hidden aspects of living, the underneath as we: wake up, enter a room, set a table, wash our hands, brush our teeth, rake leaves, send an e-mail or make a phone call - plant a young tree.
One author says that gathas are like planting seeds of goodness, spirit and joy. As a response to our feelings of helplessness, gathas are seeds of desire and good intention sewn in a world burdened with killing, negativity, greed, suffering and injustice. Additionally, I'd say gathas are short exhaled expressions of surprise - interior exclamation points!
Gathas are a way for us to take control of our own minds which are often jerked around by so many silly and wasted distractions, too much media and too much talking. We can en-circle the world by writing our own - indeed - we should feel encouraged to do so.
As I awaken
Upon waking this morning,
I stay in bed until I smile,
grateful for these hours
and greeting all who suffer.
The day's first encounter with water
Streams weave through the woods here,
rain and snow abound,
now grateful for the splash of water ~
our human commonalty.
As I put on my shoes
With a grateful heart I ask
Who made these shoes?
and that I'd walk the earth
in safety and peace.
While walking my dogs
In the dark morning hours ~
tiny headlights on my cap,
grateful for this bit of creation
entrusted to my care.
As my eyes fall on the Gospel page
At age seven the pretty teacher taught me to read.
What a wonderful gift!
I hold this wish for the children of the world ~
especially the girls.
For the healing of my ancestors
In my ancestral line: poverty, imbalance and fear,
addiction and despair.
Now in this moment of recalling,
I wish them healing and joy.
Setting the table
As I set the table ~
dinner for four,
Can't we spread the table
for the world that has nothing?
In the planting of the fir tree
As an antidote to destruction
I plant the young fir tree
with hopes for an
ever-greening human unity.
As I awaken
Upon waking this morning,
I stay in bed until I smile,
grateful for these hours
and greeting all who suffer.
The day's first encounter with water
Streams weave through the woods here,
rain and snow abound,
now grateful for the splash of water ~
our human commonalty.
As I put on my shoes
With a grateful heart I ask
Who made these shoes?
and that I'd walk the earth
in safety and peace.
While walking my dogs
In the dark morning hours ~
tiny headlights on my cap,
grateful for this bit of creation
entrusted to my care.
As my eyes fall on the Gospel page
At age seven the pretty teacher taught me to read.
What a wonderful gift!
I hold this wish for the children of the world ~
especially the girls.
For the healing of my ancestors
In my ancestral line: poverty, imbalance and fear,
addiction and despair.
Now in this moment of recalling,
I wish them healing and joy.
Setting the table
As I set the table ~
dinner for four,
Can't we spread the table
for the world that has nothing?
In the planting of the fir tree
As an antidote to destruction
I plant the young fir tree
with hopes for an
ever-greening human unity.
