Eat. Pray. Love.
My lament that I need three of me-- for my family's physical needs, for my family's emotional needs, and for my own needs-- sounds a lot like eat, pray, love.
Only: Eat, Love, Pray.
The Sim Shalom siddur reads, in the Shabbat prayer for peace, that we are brought into being "To praise, to labor, and to love."
Pray, Eat, Love.
But I don't get beyond Eat. Everything I've got to give is going into the physical needs, and falling short.
Not Eat, Pray, Love.
Just Cook, Clean, Clothe.
And I know the great spiritual answer on this one.
I know the examples of the Benedictine and Zen Buddhist monks in making the physical labor the primary expression of all else.
I know, "I slept and dreamt that life was joy, I woke and saw that life is work, I worked and found that work is joy."
What I have instead is this bottomless toxic resentful rage...
And I think it is because the spiritual practices that elevate labor, labor side by side. Not necessarily doing the same tasks at the same time, but nevertheless, side by side.
I feel no one by my side.
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