What It Means To Believe ~ Building A Temple In My Heart…



“I find it sad to consider that belief has become a scary word,

because at its Greek root, ‘to believe’ simply means

‘to give one’s heart to.’

~Kathleen Norris, from Amazing Grace ~

In the chapter, “Belief, Doubt and Sacred Ambiguity.”

The last week I have been tossing and turning on the inside, struggling with something that I could not understand. And day by day it came to me, like each bead on my strand of prayer beads, be it a rosary or a mala, each prayer taking me deeper, opening my heart further, so that I came to understand that I was not yet on my true path. I was edging into it sideways, but not there, not just yet.

Yes, I am an ordained minister, but more importantly, I am Maitri, and when I took that name legally my path was laid out before me like a holy cloth on an altar. I am to build a temple, a temple in my heart, and it is in this temple that I shall pray, for strength, for guidance, and to be led by spirit so that I might fulfill my purpose in this lifetime, to carry love and compassion to all that I meet.

I have struggled all of my life with the concept of organized religion, even while holding within me the knowledge that I was deeply connected to spirit, and my work would be spirit-led. To that end I pray that I may live my way into my name, Maitri, without a title, without needing to use my last name, except legally, because the practice of maitri is what I am to spend my life learning, and practicing, and sharing while I may. Yes, I will build a temple in my heart, brick by brick, prayer by prayer, because I gave my heart long ago to a belief in love, love under all circumstances, a pure, sweet, gentle love. Not grasping, not judging, always forgiving, never regretting, always opening like the thousand petals of the lotus, as long as I am alive.

I want, so much, for people to reach out to one another from the center of their beings where the fire in their belly burns everything away so that the embers glow beautifully, and everything is seen as brilliant and golden. Must we name religion to live in spirit? Must we look for differences and fight against them, instead of seeking the sameness in the eyes of those around us, and loving them with open arms?

My prayers are not naive, they are hopeful, they are the bricks that I am building my temple with, each brick handmade from the mud from which the lotus flower springs forth. The most beautiful flower rises above the muck and the mire and holds it’s petals aloft, opening slowly, slowly, with an iridescent radiance as the sun shines on it each day. As human beings we are not without our frailties and weaknesses, we are not the lotus flower, many days the mud clings to our boots, but it is in the striving to rise above it all, yet again, another day, another moment, that we become the lotus, if only for a brief period of time, and this is worth giving one’s life to, to rise above the ugliness, the harshness, the unkindness, the dark side of life, and become a petal of the lotus, opening each day, and each day that follows, again and again.

I believe my maitri path is one of temple building, stopping to pray in the temple and refresh myself in the cool, underground waters that flow within me, as well as helping others to build their own temples in their hearts. We feel the stream flowing when we lie in bed at night and our breath comes and goes, our bellies rising and falling, floating downstream in sleep, healing the hurts of the day, and preparing for another day of opening and loving.

I started, after my ordination, to try to do something that it is not in my nature to do, to move too fast into the outside world, to build something outside of myself. I have nothing to build outside until my temple is built within. Perhaps that is what this lifetime is about, to live in love, to give of ourselves, to move forward from our hearts, with open arms, and each good deed done, each loving word, each tender gesture, each act of kindness, is another brick to add to the wall of the temple that we carry inside. Perhaps by the time we have built our holy temple, and hear the bells ringing, this is the time when we cross over from one reality to another, into that radiant light, where we meet the God of our understanding and bask in heavenly grace, where we are forgiven our sins and our very hearts open wide, like the lotus finally spent, bursting open and releasing her seeds for the next life.

We live in a garden of grace, and like the flowers in the garden, we grow from a seed, we move through the steps of maturity and reach our peak, we begin, slowly, to fade, and then we pass from one cycle to the next when it is time to plant the seed once again. This is how I see our worldly existence. One life lived, ending only to open to another, and on and on and on, like a field full of wildflowers, constantly reseeding itself, coming back again and again and again. My temple is surrounded by flowers. I stay grounded in reality by watching their cycles and patterns of growth. Every lesson we need to learn is always right before our eyes in nature, I believe this with all my heart.

We seek the answers to life, religious leaders fight over which one is right, and yet the very people called “heathens,” those who live closest to the earth, those whose beliefs are grounded in the earth beneath their feet, are closest of all to the truth. If God created the heavens and the earth, would He not try to teach us, through that which he created, the meaning of life, the cycles of birth and death and all they hold and what comes beyond this world in Nature herself? A gardener knows as well. You plant a seed, it sprouts, it grows, it forms buds, it’s petals open and for a time — and the length of times vary greatly, some blooming for a day, others for months — it shows it’s incredible beauty to all whose eyes fall upon it. We feel sadness to see the leaves wither and turn brown, when we see the fruit fall from the tree and rot on the ground, but there are always seeds inside that are the birthing of another life. Look not to a book, but to the world the creator made. The answers are always there, before us, every single day, and the further we stray from Nature, the more frenzied our lives become, calm leaks out of us like a boat with holes taking on water. We sink, slowly, slowly, slowly, day after day.

For some long time holes have sprung in my boat and my life has been a series of patch jobs, but patch I have, and onward I have sailed. Now, in my mid-fifties, it matters not, for my job now is not to race to some unknown finish line, growing larger, better, more successful, clinging to the collection of worldly goods. Now, I walk barefoot in a flowing caftan, a shawl around my shoulders, amongst birds and dogs and plants and flowers and books, and I sit in the middle of my temple and meditate and pray. And answers come, and I feel calm. When the turbulence rises again, as it surely will, I know to stop, to return to my breath — for without our breath we are not alive — and to release the tension from every muscle of my being, and slowly I find my posture, I bow my head, I meditate, I pray.

The world will move on fine without me, if I choose to work from my cloistered world where I am so in sync with the now thirteen animals who share my home, that when I take a nap among them, they all become quiet and nap with me. We move as one, this flock of birds, this pack of dogs, one Buddha Beta fish and his 2 snail friends, and we capture moments in our nets, like stars in the heavens, and we kneel before these revelations in wonder and prayer. My life frightens some, because they don’t understand one moving so slowly, so outside of the “normal” world, and yet I am here, building my temple. This is my job.

Just now Maya, the blue and gold macaw who came back to live with me this week, is speaking in “macaw” which sounds much like mumbling, but there are a few crystal clear words. She is a clown, she is beautiful, and she is also fragile. Though I hand raised her and she was with me the first year of her life, and with Jeff the next nine, she has never forgotten me and we are the only ones who can hold or touch her. I stand respectfully, silently, moving slowly, talking softly, just above a whisper, I sing her baby song to her (Every parrot I have hand-raised has had their own baby song and every one of the six parrots in this house know their song and will stop whatever they are doing when they hear it. I can now approach Maya with song and prayer, with gentleness and love, and I have been able to hold and cuddle her, to walk about with her on my shoulder, and to kiss her precious white face. There is nothing in the world, I think, softer than a macaw’s face, the white skin so fragile and thin, that to kiss that skin, to be allowed to kiss her at all, is an honor, an awesome one, for this girl that could eat through a piano leg can also be as gentle as a lamb.

We are not taught to move slowly, respectfully, to gain one’s trust, to take our time, to approach someone gently and with care, bowing to their own tender feelings and fears. People are in too much of a hurry. We live in a fast food society where everyone wants to be in the rat race, or why would they be there? I make no judgment, rather I sit quietly and watch, and listen. People are rushing so fast through their lives that I wonder, sometimes, if they will dive head-long into a casket with a list of “things to do” still held in their hand. I wonder if they see things, really see things, in the world around them. I think not. No time. Like the White Rabbit in Alice in Wonderland, we watch people rushing always “too late, too late, for a very important date,” but what are they rushing past, or toward, and is it really worth it? What are they giving up? Is what they are giving to get worth the price they pay. It is not for me to judge, merely a question posed for me to ponder, because I would like to be able to reach these people, and, while honoring all that they are, to show them that they can still gain what they seek by taking time to build that castle within, to sit in it each day, to believe (in something, anything) and more importantly, to give their hearts to.

What do you give your heart to? What do you believe? Each day I come closer to an answer — it slips through my fingers and I let it go — and the next day I am able to hold it for just a little longer, and in the center of my being I know that I come closer to a truth I am to learn every single day. When finally I am able to grasp it, another question arises and again I move toward it, slowly, breathing deeply, knowing that all things are answered in their own good time, and it is not mine to rush, but simply to move forward, lifted aloft on a cloud of grace, and keep on moving along my path as long as I live.

And so if belief is “giving one’s heart to,” then I believe with all of my heart, whose doors swing wide open, that I have given not just my heart but my whole being, and I shall continue to build my temple, and if I can help another begin to build theirs, so I shall.

I walk a labyrinth each day, eyes closed. I get to the center and sit down on my zafu and meditate. I am still fingering my prayer beads and doing kinhin, walking meditation, to find my way back out of the labyrinth. Each new day is a new question. I can only live one question at a time. I am trying my best.

With Blessings, and the deepest love, I hand you a brick made by my own hands with the mud underneath the lotus flower. Feel the holy center of each brick and put it in it’s proper place. Build your temple, and then we can look at one another, eye to eye, and see the growing calm in each other, and we can walk together, parallel for awhile, until there is a fork in the road and we each go our separate ways.

Travel joyfully, listen carefully, walk slowly, and discover, once and for all, what you have truly given your heart to in this life.

Build your temple. I’ll be building mine.

Love,

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Comments

  1. Very thoughtful love post, like a meditation – full of textures and rhythms of your life and path. You path is always where you are – be comforted.

  2. I thank you for the strength and the softness of the love brick. You are always at the center of the labyrinth, but it moves so that you can continue in movement and stillness (hugs).

  3. I hold your brick in my hands.
    It is cool to the touch, and just a little rough, from the “impurities” in the mud.
    I feel the strong steady love of Grandmother Earth in it.
    I feel the flowing joyous love you have placed in it.
    I go now to the center of my temple,
    to sit quietly and listen for its sacred Song.
    When I hear it, I will take a deep breath, open my mouth, and let it use my voice to manifest in the world.

    Blessed Be,
    Victoria SkyDancer

  4. This is a very profound post and very revealing. Thank you for the trust you show here to open up yourself for all of us to learn from.

    You ask the question concerning our daily quests and what we are trying to build.

    I left organized religion of any kind long ago. I am a Christian by belief though.

    I try my best each day to behave as a Christian. Not someone who just spends Sunday morning in church. But, truly trying my best to love, accept, forgive, and honor all of God’s creations.

    I fail every single day. But, none the less, I move on and continue with this quest.

    I do not meditate formally. I found it to be a distraction for me. I spent so much time concentrating on my breathing that I couldn’t relax much less meditate.

    My form of meditation comes at night just before I go to sleep. I say my prayers of thankfulness, needs for loved ones and myself, and then I simply say to God okay I’m ready to listen now.

    Many times I fall asleep in this very relaxed state. And He does speak to me. He answers my prayers in His time, but, more surprisingly He sends things my way that I never dreamed could be.

    I have led a hard life until just the past twenty years or so. My child hood was atrocious. I have lived through much neglect, horrible physical,verbal, and sexual abuse.

    I spent many years angry, confused and lost. I was even silly enough to be mad at God. I can say that one’s life can some times be much harder if you even think about being angry with God.

    I now carry the belief, at ;east in my life, that all I went through,survived, and even triumphed over, was all a tempering.

    It is my personal belief that some of God’s most special people, and chosen ones often feel the sting of His mighty hand before he bestows the greatest gift of all; His Grace!

    When He finally does grace you with the understanding of forgiveness oh how sweet life can be.

    But, we all have to remember to be aware at all times that we are mere mortals here on this earth. And in being so we must be conscious and aware of His will and not ours every single second.

    For when we turn from His will and walk down a path not chosen for us then the walk is very dark and lonely.

    Oh my Maitri you do bring out so much in me. Please forgive me for such a long comment.

    I am very pleased that you were able to take a little time for yourself.

    Judging by this post you certainly did receive a refreshing and enlightening experience.

    Blessings my dear friend!:-)

  5. The contents and thoughts of this piece touched my heart as it mirrors my present state as well in my struggle for finding the right path to spiritual perfection.

    May the spirit leads us the way!

  6. hi, nice blog
    Your Blog is More interesting.great work.
    …if possible at ur free time visit mine..and give ur suggestion to improve..
    i am very happy to add you in my blogroll as friends if u like..!!

  7. Maitri, you give so much of yourself to others.This is a lovely post. Most of us have found ourselves, not with the help of any organized religion, but by seeking from within and finding all the answers there.

    I have something for you in my blog. It’s my way of showing my appreciation to you and my other friends.I hope you’ll drop by again soon to have a look or claim it.

    Blessings,

    Bing (“,)

  8. Anyone who can give their heart so freely to animals AND people alike, is a truly beautiful soul….inside and out. Thank you for another amazing post. I am honored to hold your brick in my humble hands.

  9. What a human, open loving post – my best. My best,, John.

  10. Waving hello. I’m back home and have use of the FF and am now able to get to your page. I use Int. Expl for 99% of my stuff as it seems to load so much faster and I like the font better. It’s the only thing that works on a couple of my forums and other blogs; but for some reason… FF is what I need for your page. I do like FF for the drop toolbar.

    Anyway, just wanted to give you the feedback.

    Sandy

  11. So glad to have found you Maitri! I kind of dropped out creatively and bloggerly and when I came back you were gone. So thrilled to find you!

  12. Yum … *Now* my perennial attraction to the word “believe” makes sense. I’d come to (mis?)understand its meaning more in the contemporary context of rigid adherence to a code of conduct (as in, religion with HARD edges…) … I’d become very cautious in using the word “belief” or any of its cousins …

    Thank you, Maitri, for posting the wonderful quote from Kathleen Norris. She is definitely a meaning-maker!

    And you, dear Maitri … There *are* people in this world who, intrinsically, are healers … You certainly are! Bless you to the nth degree 🙂

    I’ve been on something of a retreat for the last few months … Beginning to emerge into the world again with the advent of Spring …

    I’ll be reading through your blog and catching up with a sense of where you are and where you’ve been … In the meantime, thank you for the word-gift around “belief.”

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