March NonRequired Reading List
Contemplify / NRR #64
“Now that I am a dad I don’t have time to feel awkward.”
Do you see the Next Thing coming?
When a disquieting existential hunger hits me, I entertain daydreams of a quickened enlightenment. I imagine the slap of transformation1 being delivered by the promises of the Next Thing arriving from the unshored horizon. Peering over my spiritual spectacles, I squint, looking for the Next Thing to catch my eye. And here it comes. I can see the Next Thing now. By my estimations this approaching Next Thing should strengthen my spine and perk up my sleepy eyes in meditation. Maybe scrub and anchor my drifting heart, too.
I must tell the world about this magnificent Next Thing.
Barking on a street corner, I implore everyone to embrace the Next Thing. A crowd draws near eager to hear the promises of the Next Thing. People start to claw for the Next Thing. I raise it overhead, out of reach, and bellow out its powers of transformation. The crowd moves closer and rips the Next Thing from my hands. I wrench it back into my grip. A snappy melee ensues. Holding onto it is all that matters. But wait…what is happening on the street corner across the way? Does that charming, articulate person have a new Next Thing? I did not realize there was a new Next Thing. Embarrassed by my clinging, I drop my next thing to seek out the Next Thing. I step cautiously. After years of hearing Next Thing sermons you can not fool this wizened seeker.
Did they just say that they are holding the last Next Thing?
Surely the last Next Thing is way better than the Next Thing because it is the last Next Thing. Which means it solves the whole damn Thing. Including the Next Thing addiction, which by the way, seems a little childish now that I think of it, doesn’t it? I cannot wait to tell everyone about the last Next Thing.
A Shape-Shifting Promise
The Next Thing is a shape-shifting promise. Carelessness is its credo. Born in the thunderous belch of greed the Next Thing prances beyond the searchlight’s discerning eye. When I am in unconscious torpor I seek out the Next Thing. The Next Thing sees my shiftless eyes and darts out from its hiding spot, grabs my shoulders and spins me into the unfocused trance of more. The optimism of discovery returns tears of limitations back under my eyelids. Momentary relief is the only gift that the Next Thing can offer, because there is no sustaining there there. The Next Thing is a diffuser of optics, not an incarnational liberator of the heart’s blinders.
The hunger for the Next Thing is born out of dissatisfaction with Reality’s present moment2. The Next Thing teaches the prayer of “more”. It rewards the pursuit of gluttonous hoarding with a vacant lot out back to store more accumulated holiness. In pursuit of more, the Next Thing shifts its shape to entice appetites into ravenous states of careless consumption. Perhaps the Next Thing started as reading the latest book, then morphed into absorbing the latest podcast, teacher, or practice. Curiosity is cast aside for the uncurated gobbling up of Next Things.
Next Things require all too much attention3. Engorging on one Thing to the Next without pause or proper digestion builds rotten gas. Let it go4 and wake to the practice of the pleasant (or not so pleasant) presence of the present tense. There is no Next Thing in the now.
March NonRequired Reading List
The Corner of Fourth and Nondual by Cynthia Bourgeault (Get it at the Public Library or Bookshop)
Distillation is an art. Much gets lost in distilling the nuances of a story, because you can end up with a synopsis that short sheets genius. Hamlet is about a young man and his dysfunctional family. True, but lacking. Cynthia Bourgeault deftly takes up the challenge of distilling the foundational tenets of her theology in less than one hundred pages (I love this idea so much, kudos to the My Theology series for lighting up this project). Bourgeault’s work has been one of the constellations guiding me on my contemplative path, often directing me into the fluttering space between what is seen and unseen.
If you have not read Cynthia Bourgeault (or even if you have), The Corner of Fourth and Nondual is the place to start. Building on the work of her cheering cloud of mentors, Bourgeault’s theological voice shines through with her unique contributions. Beginning with Centering Prayer and seeing with the eye of the heart, Cynthia drops into an “elliptical arc between…incarnation and Paschal Mystery” (p.29), while “envisioning the Trinity as a cosmogonic principle” (p.45) and then lays out the distinct expressive elements of nondual attainment in Christianity. I cannot distill it any further, dear reader. Taste and see for yourself.
The Corner of Fourth and Nondual is for readers who want to sample the menu before they order it all.
The Summer Book by Tove Jansson (Get it at the Public Library or Bookshop)
When I watch my kids engage with their grandparents I see infinite treasures imprinted in the spirited bond at play. Both parties also know the laughable fallibility of the parents that link them in the family chain. Tove Jansson has captured this spirited connection in The Summer Book.
This novel follows a grandmother and granddaughter on a small island in the Gulf of Finland. Nothing much happens, and in that nothingness everything happens. Storms roll in and out (physically and metaphorically) over the summer months. Sophia is six years old (precocious would be an understatement), hungry for life’s little adventures and its big answers. Sophia’s grandmother is her guide, playmate, and primary caretaker on the island. Wise and forthright, her grandmother drops eternal truths on love, God, and death for Sophia to pick up. She also smiles wryly when Sophia does the same for her. The Summer Book is never preachy, usually funny, and calls the reader to the adventures of life available on the island-like existence of your own usual stomping grounds.
The Summer Book breathes into each one of its twenty-two vignettes. The reader receives the gift of an unrushed read. Why would you want to hurry through life when there are islands to explore?
Contemplify Update
Season Two of Contemplify is complete. If you want to grace your ears with an episode, you can find the complete list of Season Two below (production of Season Three is underway at meandering pace).
Here is the full list of episodes for Season Two:
Solitude at the Center of All Beauty with Fenton Johnson (Season 2, Episode 7)
The Harmonic Resonance Found in Unknowing with Brie Stoner (Season 2, Episode 6)
A Wild Mystical Woman of the Desert with Amy Frykholm (Season 2, Episode 5)
Enlivening the First Christmas with Stephen Mitchell (Season 2, Episode 4)
Backporch Advent Outpost with Chris Dombrowski (Advent Bonus #2)
Backporch Advent Outpost with Todd Davis (Advent Bonus #1)
The Monastic Heart & Prophetic Imagination with Sr. Joan Chittister (Season 2, Episode 3)
Slow Yourself to be Awed with J. Drew Lanham (Season 2, Episode 2)
Gary Nabhan (aka Brother Coyote) on Wisdom Gleaned from Fishers & Farmers (Season 2, Episode 1)
These episodes are available from Contemplify through these fine outlets: Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Stitcher, Podbean, or Overcast
Arts & Articles
WAR IS EVIL by Diana Butler Bass (Substack): Diana Butler Bass offers a rich perspective on the way religion is shaping Russian’s invasion of the Ukraine. Christianity as domination rather than communion. And as Bass notes, this is not just happening in Ukraine. Highly recommended (h/t Mark).
SINGING TO THE SAKE by Masaru Terada (Patagonia): The art of brewing sake with a song, “Two cellar workers are in charge of each tub, and they coordinate their rhythm by singing motosuri-uta, the old rice-mashing songs, which go back hundreds of years. By singing, the brewers’ hearts become one and teamwork improves. I even think that the microorganisms ferment more energetically when they hear the songs!”
AFTER MY SON DIED, I WENT LOOKING FOR GOD IN THE DESERT by Belden C. Lane (Christian Century) : Writer and spiritual guide, Belden C. Lane generously offers this reflection after losing his son. Lane takes to the desert canyons of New Mexico in search of release, yet the wilderness instructs him on what is required. He writes, “canyons, in the end, have their way. They require our acceptance of emptiness. To encounter a canyon, we have to resist the temptation to fill what needs to be left open.” (h/t to Lee)
LOCAL VALLEY by José González (jose-gonzalez.com): Best heard under an open sky, back planted on the earth, arms spread wide. (h/t to Dawson)
The rabid chase
for more
is more
than understandable.
Wash up
and finish early.
Mindless fetching
of the Next Thing
is how stray dogs
breed.
Stop the chase,
but not the quest.
Unrushed and a bit unkempt,
Paul
Apologies, that line was written before the Oscars
This gluttony is forgivable, for by human perception reality sucks a lot of the time
NEXT THING Care Instructions (typically found on the inside tag):
Do not dry clean. Do not use bleach. The Next Thing wears thin after multiple uses. A worn out Next Thing is of no use. Please follow the steps below:
Wash all of your Next Things together in hot water.
Hang them taut out of doors on the laundry line.
Set up a lawn chair and pour a tall one.
Watch them bake, dry, and crumble under the slow heat of the sun.
You will be surprised by what remains when the Next Things are gone.
Preferably out of doors or in a well ventilated room