Namasté
by jillangill on Feb.02, 2009, under Thoughts
Lately I’ve been thinking a great deal about a word; a way of thinking differently about the people around me. Namasté. Translated literally, this greeting means “I bow to you.” In yoga, it’s used with the meaning “The light in me honors the light in you.” To me, it’s a great reminder that God has created and deeply loves each of the faces–both new and familiar–I encounter every day.
I’m sad to admit how much easier it is for me to extend judgment and mistrust onto people I don’t know, rather than to choose to love them. In very tangible ways, I know God would have me be a presence of light and love so I can embody who He is. To me this means smiling at strangers instead of fearing them. It means choosing gentleness over annoyance when my neighbors are loud or I get cut off in traffic. It’s praying for people who hurt me and choosing to be patient. It’s looking people in the eye, treating them with dignity, and realizing that God loves them just as much as he loves me.
Everybody hurts, doubts, cries, experiences loneliness. I believe that God gave us our earthly relationships in part to model His healing love to each other. It’s not usually the response that comes most naturally, but it’s always within our control to choose love. And maybe that’s the closest we’ll ever get to Heaven on Earth.
And so, a humble Namasté to my Exodus family, who are so easy to love!
February 2nd, 2009 on 12:11 pm
I think you really hit on something big Jill. It is so easy to not go out of our way or give a second thought for a stranger. God loved us despite the fact that there are so many of us. The fact that we might not know or be close or trust someone should not be a factor in regards to whether we show them love or not.
February 3rd, 2009 on 8:55 am
Part of the problem is that there is such a strong curent of privacy and individualism, especially in Southern California, that I believe it begins to inform and shape our spiritual lives. It is hard to even place ourselves in a posture where we would remember to pray for those around us when we would be suspicious or even disturbed if someone we didn’t know tried to break the high wall of separation and speak to us. We live in constant avoidance mode, hoping we don’t have to run into our neighbor, living behind walled backyards, and relegating people around us to no more than “extras” in a movie that is all about us.
Isn’t that what makes experiences in an elevator so uncomfortable — that we are actually forced into close quarters with people we don’t know? A situation where we are forced to choose between the awkwardness of acknowledging another person verses the awkwardness of pretending that the person just two feet away from us doesn’t exist?
I wonder if people in friendlier places find it easier to consider and pray for those around them. Culture often seems to overwhelm the better part of our spiritual selves.
February 5th, 2009 on 10:39 am
“The light in me honors the light in you.” So beautifully descriptive and with simplicity and yet depth. I really love this concept.
February 6th, 2009 on 11:02 am
I find it really uncomfortable when people ask how they can pray for me. I find my self going through a list of things, thinking, “nope, don’t want to tell you that”, or “I don’t trust you enough with that one”.
By the time I get through the list of things I really need prayer for, my prayer requests have been distilled to a bunch of meaningless things just to get the person to back off.
February 9th, 2009 on 6:41 pm
I really agree that preoccupation with privacy and our tendency toward being self-centered can hamper our spiritual lives. It takes energy and willingness to reach out to others. We are all so competitive as we go about trying to carve out our niche in this world, and we’ve been taught that our time is best spent on furthering our own agendas.
On the spectrum of relating to others, it even seems easier to give a stranger a nod than to put forth the kind of prolonged effort it takes to maintain closer relationships. Relationships make you vulnerable and can cause you pain, and they invite others into your business. Ben, I think you touched on this with the feeling that being vulnerable with each other isn’t comfortable, and sometimes it doesn’t even feel like it’s in our best interest. I know I “distill” myself too, depending on how much I trust the other person. I don’t think that’s always such a bad thing.
It’s a tough line to walk…figuring out when to be open and when to protect yourself. I think this is the most difficult obstacle to loving people–all people–I’ve encountered so far.