Episode 8 – How to Let Your Wine and your Creative Soul Breathe

Shownotes:

Episode 8 – How to Let Your Wine and your Creative Soul Breathe

This spacious episode features some great (creative commons) music and concerns the aerating of wine and (more importantly) of your creative soul.

(Yes, I have asthma and you can tell! Please forgive all my gasping for breath. It’s been a hard few weeks for me.)
Click to listen now:


This episode is brought to you by…

Life As Prayer: Revived Spirituality Inspired by Ancient Piety
(on the life and legacy of Brother Lawrence’s habit of “practicing the presence of God”)

How can YOU find an enduring sense of God’s presence with you? Learn about 16th century Brother Lawrence and how his understanding of God’s presence continues to enrich lives today.


Don’t forget to subscribe to the podcast AND to my newsletter!

Both your wine and your life must be able to to breathe!

Full and aware breathing can inspire your creative muse and enrich your life in so many ways.

minute 1:00

I excitedly announce two upcoming interviews:
• Daniel J. Lewis interview (a virtuosic creator who’s received national awards for podcasts he produces).

• Sarah Bessey (Jesus Feminist author) Interview (discussing her new Out of Sorts book).


 

WINE SEGMENT: Letting wine breathe!

minute: 5:00

In wine terms “aeration” is the process of bringing air into wine.

The term dumb (i.e. “dumb wine”) refers to a wine that has little flavor or fragrance.
• Swirling wine mixes it with air and allows it to both breathe and speak!
• Flavor and aroma and the beauty and richness of the wine emerges as space for air gets in (just like us).

TIPS to make a better speaking wine:

(If buying excellent wine isn’t an option….which is most of us!)

Option 1.

Use a blender.

Option 2.

Use a hand blender (this is a method I use)

Option 3.

A cheap and simple solution:
Pour wine into a bowl and whisk it with a fork or whisk (like you would for scrambled eggs).


 

minute 5:50
Sparking your muse

• Aeration of the soul

• (a short recording) Insights from the middle of my retreat time at the Jesuit Spiritual Center in Wernersville, PA.

Forgetting how to breath.

My asthma and stress; and tightness of breath and soul.

8:30

Sprit of God = breath of life

9:30

On slowing down.

9:50

The fantastic 4-7-8 second breathing exercise I learned to get your breath (and life) back.

11:30

Retreat invitation
(click link to learn more)

12:20

Giving breath to the creative soul…

Creating space and breath for the Creative muse/your soul to truly thrive

13:00

The Scriptural inspiration, history, and meaning of “Breath Prayer”
(as a Christian devotional practice)

Luke 18:9-14

To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable:10 “Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. 11 The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: ‘God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. 12 I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get.’

13 “But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, ‘God, have mercy on me, a sinner.’

14 “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.”

minute 15:00

Breath Prayer: A simple cry for help and connection

• How to do “breath prayer”

• My important adaptation to breath prayer (that helps me identify as a loved child of God).


 

Did you enjoy the podcast?
I hope you’ll share this episode with friend or family member who might need more space and air for her soul to breathe.

Cheers! Here’s to your health.


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Please, help me and take this short 30-second listener-survey.

Spark My Muse

C.S. Lewis on longing and friendship

A few tidbits today from a greater mind than mine by a thousand or more:

C.S. Lewis.

jacklewis

Jack, as his friends called him, lived and wrote with an authenticity that made courageously interacting with the most painful and potent stuff of life an ordinary occurrence.

He loved deeply, he thought deeply, he wrote deeply, he suffered deeply. All these things, love, joy, friendship, sacrifice, loss, and longing were the topics of his work.

A heavyweight intellectual with the rare kind of genius to write concisely and accessibly to anyone, he never shied away from the messy parts of life–no matter who the audience. He might be most famous for his children’s fiction, but his poetry, literary criticism, apologetics, and other works reveal him as a polymath and literary giant. Thanks to the recent Hollywood versions of Narnia movies (which ardent C.S. Lewis fans find grossly wanting) ave created a renewed interest in Lewis making him more widely read now than he was in his own lifetime.

What made the man?

Tragedies cultivated a pensive and sensitive aspect of Leiws that complimented an agile, imaginative, and sharp mind.

Perhaps the deepest wound happened at age 9 when he lost his mother in death. His father was emotionally distant and sent him off to a series of boarding schools–which he deplored. The isolation and grief seemed to create a “heart-wound” from which he suffered his whole life; and from which he found solace in the hope of heaven and in the embrace of friendship.

Author Anthony Burgess wrote that “Lewis is the ideal persuader for the half-convinced, for the good man who would like to be a Christian but finds his intellect getting in the way.” (*source)

But, not at first.

First, the pain made him a committed and intellectual atheist at age 14. Despite his choice, Lewis still wrestled with what most creators and artists do, spiritually, as his journal from that time reveals:

“If I find in myself a desire which no experience in this world can satisfy, the most probable explanation is that I was made for another world.”

Later, Jack would reconcile these longings more throughly with theism. (An acceptance of God as Creator.)

Subsequently, he found Jesus Christ the fitting Savior and Redeemer of the story–which is life and human experience. The Savior myths of ancient times and other cultures he said evidenced that the story of God and Jesus was a “true myth” reflected in meta-truth and narrative intwined into the cultural fabric and story of (nearly) every civilization.

He continued to explore this idea of desire and longing–from which any one with an artistic temprament can take confort:

“In speaking of this desire for our own far off country, which we find in ourselves even now, I feel a certain shyness. I am almost committing an indecency.

 

 

I am trying to rip open the inconsolable secret in each one of you—the secret which hurts so much that you take your revenge on it by calling it names like Nostalgia and Romanticism and Adolescence; the secret also which pierces with such sweetness that when, in very intimate conversation, the mention of it becomes imminent, we grow awkward and affect to laugh at ourselves; the secret we cannot hide and cannot tell, though we desire to do both.

 

 

We cannot tell it because it is a desire for something that has never actually appeared in our experience. We cannot hide it because our experience is constantly suggesting it, and we betray ourselves like lovers at the mention of a name. Our commonest expedient is to call it beauty and behave as if that had settled the matter.

 

Wordsworth’s expedient was to identify it with certain moments in his own past. But all this is a cheat. If Wordsworth had gone back to those moments in the past, he would not have found the thing itself, but only the reminder of it; what he remembered would turn out to be itself a remembering.

 

The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing.

 

 

These things—the beauty, the memory of our own past—are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshipers.

 

For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.”

 

How beautifully he captures longing!

For Lewis, camaraderie, fellowship, friendship, and love brought light and healing to his heart and his world. Through them he remained grounded and prolific.

Lewis on friendship:

In a circle of true Friends each man is simply what he is: stands for nothing but himself. No one cares twopence about anyone else’s family, profession, class, income, race, or previous history.

 

Of course you will get to know about most of these in the end. But casually. They will come out bit by bit, to furnish an illustration or an analogy, to serve as pegs for an anecdote; never for their own sake. That is the kingliness of Friendship. We meet like sovereign princes of independent states, abroad, on neutral ground, freed from our contexts.

 

This love (essentially) ignores not only our physical bodies but that whole embodiment which consists of our family, job, past and connections. At home, besides being Peter or Jane, we also bear a general character; husband or wife, brother or sister, chief, colleague, or subordinate. Not among our Friends. It is an affair of disentangled, or stripped, minds. Eros will have naked bodies; Friendship naked personalities.

 

Hence (if you will not misunderstand me) the exquisite arbitrariness and irresponsibility of this love. I have no duty to be anyone’s Friend and no man in the world has a duty to be mine. No claims, no shadow of necessity. Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art, like the universe itself… It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which gave value to survival.

Friendship: Unnecessary for Survival?

Prompted by a C.S. Lewis quote posted by fellow-writer Mark Zellner, hug

 

C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art…. It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things which give value to survival.

New to my life is this:

I’m a manager on Saturdays at Spring Gate Vineyard in the tasting room.

It’s a place where friends meet. It’s a great place to get to know people, and also to study people as they socialize (observe and people-watch).

People could meet there for business, and some do. But these sorts of gatherings are few by comparison to all the others.

There’s something about friendship that gets enhanced through the communing with food and drink in a bucolic setting. People linger and relax. They smile more. 

I’ve never seen someone pre-occupied on there smartphone, unless they were checking on their friend’s arrival. Most everyone is fully there enjoying the company, the setting, and of course the wine (and the food from the caterers we partner with).

Alcohol? Is that part of the equation?

Not in the way you would think.

This is no place of obliteration with alcohol (the odd exception being the occasional limo parties who make us one stop of many). It’s a moderate environment in every way.

 

Friendships that can help moderate the cruelties of life are a treasure.

The complexities of flavors…in the wine, the food, and the company are savored where I work. And that is the sweetness of life.

I do pity those without friendship. I pity those who do not make friends by being a friend. My mother told me this is how it works. I agree with her, but that’s how you get one started.

They need nourishment, cultivation, compassion, and sometimes weeding or pruning–the hard work of digging in and getting dirty when things are not perfect.

And I do pity those who dare not trust and risk to forge close friendships, because the rewards of deep friendship are lavish.

(This is not to say that pain will be absent from friendship. Any friendship without some pain is a swallow one. Sadly, though, the threat of this (typical sort of) pain keeps too many watching at a distance.)

Perceived betrayals and miscommunication are the tannin.

And like tannins make wine better as it ages, the bumpy patches can (potentially, and with God’s help) work positively make our friendships get better with age.)

 

I’ll add to Lewis’ thought,

“Cooperation-not friendship-is necessary for human survival…but friendship elevates survival and gives it the balance, lovely complexity, and long, sweet finish.” -LD

So there is, like many things in this world, a “wastefulness” about friendship. Like beauty and ingenious design, of say a fly’s wing or a plant, friendship has something that points off the map to a greater reality. A greater Truth.

Friendship may be the most necessary thing after all to feel fully alive. It taps deeply into our wiring, into our human need for connection and meaning. It may look a bit different for each of us, of course.

Without it we may have a disease of mind, or of society at large. Without it we can tap into the hopelessness that strikes when we feel we are forgotten or alone. Disconnection is hell after all.

Essay on Youth

Some of my thoughts on youth, now that it’s in the rear view mirror.

Youth: a chronic condition that ends in time.

CC file found here
teen star (CC file found here)

The stage of Youth: A time characterized by excitement, worry, hope, fear, misplaced confidence, and options (plenty of which are set to expire).

Nothing breathes fresh air into a situation like an eager youth ready to learn, try, fail, and keep trying. It inspires the younger ones and rallies the older ones.

Nothing is more endearing than a youth who prizes earlier generations and lacks the blinding hubris typical to the stage of the development.

and to the god of our age….Youth, Oh the beauty of it. Personified, Venus, her name. (Youthful Beauty…or what nearly every commercial directed at females is about.)

Like a baby unblemished and without scars, youth displays itself on the young like a pillar of potential, a stack of dreams and promises, shinning and magnificent, and frozen for just that moment in time. Though what youth feels this truly? Youth is a self-deluding time: The stage seems expansive when you are in it, and experience can’t bear this out differently because of the great lack of it.

Sustaining this impossibility of sustained youth, this age of supposed perfection becomes the futile and bitter plight for too many. And the fight for it is nonsensical.

Youth is a stage to be enjoyed and then left behind like outgrown clothes, once pristine, but all-too-soon ill-fitting and inappropriate for the rest of the voyage. Ballet slippers are shed for work boots.

How true that Youthful beauty is but one kind. Though who knows this?

By being convinced that beauty has a pinnacle (age 21?) too may rue the loss of this exterior sort of it–never realizing the false conception is not based on much more than societal conventions and symmetry…but it sells a lot of face cream, doesn’t it?

Yes, the flower of spring is glorious (youth indeed), but the whole plant, or tree, is the greater thing. An oak, a tower in homage to resilience, humanity in the full, of which youthful can never assail, let alone master.

The joy and glory of youth is the promise of accomplishment. Like graduation ceremonies and semi-finals matches.

Though what youth sees it this way?

And what about the resentment of youth by the no longer young?
Maybe it stems from the regret of the energy and options lost. The verve the youths possess can seem enviable. Though they (youth) don’t know it, their blatant inexperience and lack of wisdom, from the outside, seems pitiful, just like the weakness and lethargy of advanced years seem like that to the youth.

“What a young fool,” says the man.

“What a tired and bitter old man,” says the youth.

Both under-estimated.

And back to confidence.

Youthful confidence rests in that accomplishments are assured with effort and willingness. (Though it seems different to them sometimes. For them, confidence may rest mainly in feeling the power of mind and body so fully.)

This confidence is often shattered or dismantled within a decade because of the slings and arrows of life. But occasionally not, and never for the narcissist.

Sickness, financial strain, mishaps, circumstances, failure, and the most debilitating – early success – strip out the potency of youthful confidence. With persistence and determination this is replaced by the better things:

  • stability of character
  • the resolution of will 
  • fortitude of spirit

But, best of all: the of acquisition compassion necessary for the species to survive, or even–sometimes– thrive.

(Oh, that it is empathic compassion, not pity, is the impetus for acts of goodness.)

And what of maturity of the youth? 

A mature youth is only mature compared to his peers or the fools of older generations.

And for good reason. Maturity is a gift, not a certainty. It comes through time, but also by Grace, just as youth and health come. Though who knows this?

A “mature youth” is usually an oxymoronic attribute, as genuine maturity involves accumulating wisdom.

Maturity and wisdom come through testing and testing by the passage of time well-lived and the battles of life well-tested.

Youthful maturity is then only the bud of it which, if it is there at all, is necessarily nestled in humility (knowing well, or in some good manner, the terrible disadvantage of inexperience).

In the end, the unknown exists for all, but the degrees and varieties of it change as time passes and aging happens. Both exciting and terrifying–needing courage and inner strength.

It goes in stages from

“What will I become?”

to

“What will become of me, and us all?”

 

Something for Lent: This Amazing Requiem (video)

Use this as a vehicle for worship today. It is the very definition of art.

The beauty of this short performance comes to us, like most great art, bittersweet–for it reveals both the masterpiece and fragility of humankind. The beauty of voice, musical composition, and the sorrow of a requiem needing to be sung at all.

It also evokes the hope of blessed rest and solace of the great Comforter.

evancho

In 1986, this Requiem earned Lloyd Webber a Grammy Award for Best Classical Contemporary Composition. It was composed in a style unlike any of his other works after the sudden death of his father.

Unlike a traditional requiem mass, Lloyd Webber combined the texts of the Pie Jesu and Agnus Dei.

Here is vocal prodigy, Jackie Evancho, performing it. (Scroll down to read the lyrics in both Latin and English)

“Pie Jesu” Latin Lyrics
Pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem
Pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu, pie Jesu
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem
Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei
Qui tollis peccata mundi
Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem
Sempiternam
Sempiternam
Requiem

“Pie Jesu” English Lyrics
Merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus
Father, who takes away the sins of the world
Grant them rest, grant them rest
Merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus, merciful Jesus
Father, who takes away the sins of the world
Grant them rest, grant them rest
Lamb of God, Lamb of God, Lamb of God, Lamb of God
Father, who takes away the sins of the world
Grant them rest, grant them rest
everlasting
everlasting
Rest

 

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