With Franciscan Eyes

Slowing Down Our Life

The American culture we live in values speed and getting things done quickly. Doing is more valuable than being, thus our hurried pace. The more we do, the faster we do it and that makes us feel harried and disconnected. I often wonder why we continue to live in this way if it makes us feel agitated and hectic. When we hurry through life we miss the simple wonders around us. Rushing through activities can diminish the quality of our work and relationships.

So how can we solve this dilemma we are in? Here are some tips that might be helpful. Relish your morning and evening rituals such as brushing your teeth and showering. Eat your meals with intentionality. Really taste what you are eating. Live each moment consciously and deliberately. You will find that brings greater pleasure and peace when you do. Stay in touch with yourself. Do some soul-searching, meditation and journaling. Take time to think and reflect, nurture yourself and savor moments with friends. Spend time with people who seem to live a simple life at a slower pace. Learn from them.  Doing things in a relaxed manner will open your mind and heart to deeper levels of awareness which will make you feel more alive. Slowing down allows you to savor your experiences and will help you to fully focus on the task at hand. Make time for stillness, silence and solitude. We don’t have to be doing something all the time.

All the above seems easy but it is not, especially when everyone around you is rushing at a frantic pace.  It takes practice and discipline. The secret is being conscious and aware. If you have that, you can catch yourself when you are rushing through life. Once you take notice, then you can do something about it. We all have only one life to live. That does not mean we have to always be in a hurry to experience everything. No, it means we want to live our life with meaning and purpose, consciously and deliberately which eventually brings peace and contentment. 

The Veil is Thin

For me, Halloween or All Hallows’ Eve has always been magical -- and mystical. While Wikipedia is intent on explaining the difference between these two terms, I will explain how they are intertwined. I vividly remember my childhood Halloweens: the decorations, the costumes, going out after dark, and of course, the CANDY. So much candy! For me, there was magic in the air. Jack O’ Lanterns glowed on porches, children were transformed into costumed creatures, and did I mention candy? Full disclosure: I trick-or-treated until I was 28 because I loved it so much, and I didn’t want to let it go. All of this is the magical part. Even now as fall begins to encroach on summer, I sense Halloween in the air, dark clouds passing over the moon. The wind whispers “All Hallows’ Eve is coming.” Combine this with the colorful falling leaves, cooler air. and pumpkin spice lattes (!?), and I can feel the harvest season ending as the barren winter approaches.

Halloween bears the message that All Saints Day is imminent. As children, my brothers and I had to wait to trick or treat at our parish rectory until our pastor returned home from the Vigil Mass. So from an early age, the two days were connected for me. All Saints’ Day unites us to our spiritual ancestors—all the saints on the Church calendar and all the saints who are not, but who are no less important. This link to eternity and our complete union with the God who made us and loves us beyond all measure is the mystical part. I have no issue with going directly from the “secular” world of ghosts, pumpkins, and black cats to the sacredness of the saints. The whole ancient idea was on All Hallows’ Eve that the veil that separated the physical realm from the spiritual one was the thinnest. The two could intermingle. Magical meets mystical. This connection is why I carve Jesus pumpkins. It is my way of reminding people that Halloween is not merely a “secular” holiday. In Franciscanism, all of nature comes from God, so there is no secular. All created things are sacred. God’s fingerprint is on every living thing—when we choose to see it.