Spirituality & Practice

The neck is a busy body part. In the front it contains vessels for speech, eating, blood, and breath. In the back it houses the spinal cord which beams brain signals to the heart and the rest of the body. The neck is to be commended for all the good work she does including the Herculean task of holding up the head which surely can seem at times to weigh as much as a bowling ball! Most babies develop neck muscles to hold up their heads by six months. Unfortunately, by adulthood, most adults – nearly 2/3rds of the population – have neck pain.

What causes this discomfort? . . .

I remember in kindergarten singing and stretching to the rollicking song, "Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes." What a lark it was to sense my body's amazing flexibility. At that early age there were innumerable skinned knees but nothing to stop my play. While others dreaded going to the doctor's office for a physical exam, I always thought it was fun when he tapped each knee with a rubber hammer and they dutifully responded with leg jerks. Now, as a much older patient, it takes longer to achieve what is called the patellar reflex.

The knees are the largest joints . . .

I have not given much attention or thought to my spine, despite it being such an awe-inducing body part. It provides me with strength and support, uprightness and dignity. We get a sense of how important this vertebral column is when we see someone in a wheel-chair as a result of an injury to the spinal cord it protects.

I became more aware of my spine when I discovered I have scoliosis or a curvature of the spine. Looking in a mirror, I noticed that one of my shoulders was higher than the other. Scoliosis is also an indication of aging, a sign of the cumulative wear and tear on the spinal structures.

In literary and religious writings . . .

In the perspective of the Christian monastic tradition, time is a precious gift of God in which there are places for both activity and pauses. I try to keep that in mind as I rise to greet the new day at 4 a.m. After a leisurely breakfast, I get to work, a schedule made easier by having my office in my home. At 11 am I shake off the stiffness in my shoulders and legs as I prepare lunch and rejoice in the books read and reviews completed. Then it's back to work with renewed energy.

But by 2 pm the doldrums . . .

There was a time in my life when I believed that dancing was a natural gift that you were born with or not. My father was an accomplished dancer who in his eighties could whirl my mother around the room in a waltz that was at once beautiful and graceful! And my younger sister had such good moves that people would move aside so everyone could admire her improvised creativity and passion on the dance floor. I felt that I was missing the dance gene and so I stood rigidly with my back to the wall at high school dances although my feet kept tapping to the beat.

After Mary Ann and I married, we found ourselves regularly visiting a hotel where the bands always played reggae music. We used to wait for other dancers to take to the floor but when no one did, we threw caution to the wind and danced alone under the stars, undulating to the reggae beat. The band members always got a kick out of watching my quite unusual moves and would say: "Look at Preacher Man, oh boy, he's in his own world!" And yes, that was true enough! My head had finally given in to my body's yearning to move and ride the reggae beat like a surfer rides a wave.

Bob Marley's "Stir It Up" and . . .

It's that time of year again. The cold and flu season is in full swing. It is amazing that we can put a remote controlled vehicle on Mars and probe the bottom of the deepest seas and still can't cure the common cold.

We're told that a cold is due to a tricky virus that likes to leap from one person to another by air, by doorknobs, by subway railings, you name it. We can take preventative measures like washing our hands constantly or wearing a mask when we're on an airplane or in a crowded place. We can try to lessen the odds that we'll get really sick by using all kinds of remedies, from homeopathic tablets, to a combination of Vitamin C, Echinacea, and Zinc, to big helpings of chicken soup.

There's no shame in catching a cold. . . .

I am so focused on my work that I often show great disrespect for my body and the food I eat. I miss out on the spiritual riches of eating mindfully. My attitude around most meal times is "Let's just get this over with so I can get back to my computer and things that matter." For a long time, Mary Ann and I ate at the dining room table beginning the meals with grace and adding a touch of beauty with candles. But over the years, we abandoned that practice. Now we have gotten into the bad habit of eating dinner in the living room while watching television.

We have vowed to start a new regimen where eating dinner is an important part of our spiritual path. We agree with the Zen masters who all say: "When eating just eat." It is imperative that we take the time to enjoy and savor the fresh food in front of us. It deserves our full presence and our delight in the taste, the smells, the textures, and the colors of the meal. Each bite, each sip is exquisite if we give our attention to it. 

For our body's sake we need to eat slowly, refusing to give in to the hurry sickness of our culture.

Eating with awareness . . .

I rise at 4 a.m. as do many monks in their cells around the world. I am grateful for another day to bring pleasure to God and to serve others with resources for their spiritual journeys.

I repeat a phrase from my Christian youth, "Rise, shine, give God Glory," as I make my way to the bathroom. The soothing darkness vanishes as I turn on the light. I pray that during this day, I may use my time and my talents to create as much light as I can through my words and deeds.

I sit down in a chair as I recite a gatha by Zen Master Thich Nhat Hahn: "Twenty-four hours are before me. I vow to live fully in each moment and to look at beings with eyes of compassion."

I slip into my slacks . . .

In her little prayer book Grace on the Go, Barbara Bartocci mentions a dentist who said: "Every day has two important things: floss and pray." She took this lesson to heart and since then has used flossing and brushing her teeth as a time to ask for the grace to speak words of kindness and love. Although I have a disciplined and rewarding prayer life, I have not fared so well with regular care for my teeth and gums.

It all started when I was 12. My dentist said I had too many teeth for my small jaw and so I had some removed at the hospital. After this dramatic intervention, he decided to straighten my crooked teeth with his own unique system of braces. Although I did not appreciate the pain involved, I definitely looked forward to each visit in order to see the dentist's beautiful receptionist whose cheerful smile lit up the dreary office.

Much to my shock and dismay . . .

How we marvel at the delightful smile of an infant; there's little we won't do to win another one! As we grow older the act of smiling changes into a complex nonverbal interchange; a smile is part of our body's expressive equipment. There are all kinds of smiles from the buoyant one of a contented and centered person to the frozen one of a television newsperson to the decorous one of a socialite at a party to the sublime smiles on the death masks of saints.

Spiritual writer Edward Hays observes that "a smile is a facial message of friendliness, delight, satisfaction, and amusement." It is a positive expression of the life force within us and an antidote to physical and mental exhaustion. The ancient wisdom tradition of Taoism lauds "the inner smile" and challenges us to use it to repair and rejuvenate our stressed out bodies and minds.

I can't count the number of times . . .