08 April 2005

something totally different

i figure life on longvallyelane.blogspot.com can sometimes read like one long random ramble about my life. that's because that's exactly what it is. but, i also imagine that sometimes you might want more from me, more hard hitting information, and fewer pms induced rants. because i care about what you want, or at least because i'm supposed to care what you want, i figured i'd expand on something i had to do for work earlier this week i'd also love, love, love if this could generate some conversation on the comments section., or at least tell me what you think. or if you just like the news and rants, minus any philosophical waxing. let me know and we'll see what we'll see. smooches--rmg

Prayer of Mother Teresa

Dear Jesus, help us to spread your fragrance everywhere we go.
Flood our souls with your spirit and life.
Penetrate and possess our whole being so utterly
That our lives may only be a radiance of yours.
Shine through us and be so in us
That every soul we come in contact with
May feel your presence in our soul.
Let them look up and see no longer us, but only Jesus.
Stay with us and then we shall begin to shine as you shine,
So to shine as to be light to others.
The light, O Jesus, will be all from you.
None of it will be ours.
It will be you shining on others through us.
Let us thus praise you in the way you love best
By shining on those around us.
Let us preach you without preaching,
Not by words, but by our example;
By the catching force-
The sympathetic influence of what we do,
The evident fullness of the love our hearts bear to you.
Amen



The Kalighat Home for the Destitute and Dying stands on the site of a temple dedicated to Kali, the Hindu goddess of death and destruction, in the midst of a city dedicated to that same goddess. Mother Teresa arrived in India in 1931, and began to help establish an incredible Roman Catholic presence in a country that had very little religiously in common with her church’s ideology. Nevertheless, Teresa began to do her work in the streets, in schools, in the sewage filled neighborhoods of Calcutta. Mother Teresa came to that city as a teacher, and in 1952 reclaimed the Kalighat Temple, and turned it into a haven for the poorest of the poor. She renamed it Nirmal Hriday (Pure Heart), and it was there that Mother Teresa began her life’s work and ministry. Helping poor Bengalis know that there was hope and care in a society that called them “untouchable”, Mother Teresa would walk up and down the aisles whispering to them in their native tongue that “God is here” and touch their foreheads with her small hands.

Now, i have some issues with the Catholic Church, and with overt proselyzation. But that discussion is for another day. The thing about this prayer and about this story that just leaves me in awe and amazement is that opening line-- Jesus, help us spread your fragrance all around. Think about that for a minute. Imagine being surrounded by death at every turn, surrounded by raw sewage when you step outside to get a breath of "fresh" air, and to still have the desire to pray for a new smell. What must Jesus smell like in that instance? I know that seems like a random question to ask, but really, what would you want to smell in the place of what was there. Smell is a powerful sense. It has the power to generate memories that are powerful in their intensity. Case in point--the smell of camay soap always reminds me of my great-grandmother's bathroom, and these funny little picture things she had hanging on the wall. The smell of coconut reminds me of the beach. The smell of gardenia reminds me of my mother. The smell of patcholi reminds me of the drag.

For me, were I to stand where Mother Teresa stood, Jesus would smell like several things. Jesus would like that moment between being asleep and awake, when you can almost smell breakfast, almost smell the fresh shampoo smell from last night's shower, almost smell the laundry sheet you dry your bed linens with. it's a smell that's almost nothing, but very definitely something. Almost overwhelming in its simplicity, but above all, comforting and so incredibly ordinary. Or maybe Jesus would smell like a wide open field after a good central texas rain, full of wild flowers--smelling sharply green, slightly sweet, and so clean you could eat off of it. Or maybe I'm reaching too far with this analogy, and have finally slipped into the sweet bliss of crazy. Who knows.

What I do know is that there are days when the sights, sounds, smells, and frenetic pace of life overwhelms each of us. I do know that there are days when we get so caught up in our own ambitions, intrigues, relationships, and disappointments that we forget the very basic necessity of breathing in and out. My yoga teacher (we hosted a class during let at the church) reminded us that breathing in and out is something we should concentrate on doing, that it's part of us loving ourselves. Prana is the Sanskrit word for "life-force", which is connected to breath, but is so much more than just breath. Our teacher told us to feel our prana when we breathed, to take time out every day to feel it, if only for a moment, that our breath and our bodies were alive. It's amazing how squaring back your shoulders and breathing all the way to your toes five or six times can change your entire attitude. And in opening up your lungs, in being mindful of the breaths we take, maybe, just maybe, we can smell Jesus. And maybe after we've done that, we can take that scent with us, and share it wherever we go.

mil besos--r

4 comments:

Anonymous said...

I hope I can smell jesus for the cloud of my b.o.

Anonymous said...

It was great to read this blog today! I took off of work at noon and spent the afternoon planting some things out in front of my home and in pots for the deck. Cat and Pop helped me a great deal. It was my rite of spring. The one I look forward to every year. The one which speaks to my spirit and says, "Now is the time when you can participate in my (Jesus) statement to you that "behold I make all things new!". Planting is probably the most concrete thing that ties me to a feeling of "home". It was made extra special this spring because it was shared with Mom and Dad and it reminded me of the many springs we have shared planting and watering. It reminds me of those other kinds of seeds we sow throughout our lives. The actual work of planting, when my hands are caked with soil and my nose is filled with pungent earthiness and the frangrance of green, yellow, purple, red, lavender, silver, white, orange and all hues of each; when my eyes behold the brillance and sublty of the colors of nature; when I am bone weary from hard work of using shovel and spade; when my pores weep from exposure to the sun, this is the time when I feel closest to my heavenly daddy. It is a time when my life is a prayer. Thinking of the wonder of each new life that I can now nurture and pray over and give over to God's loving care and then being reminded of individuals, circumstances and desires that I also commit to prayer as I plant. Sinking each prayer into a pot or piece of soil. Releasing them to the tender care of the loving creator with never a thought that this one or that might not thrive. How wonderful it would be if I could be so disciplined as to allow every day of prayer to be as planting day. So the fragrance of Jesus to me is the fragrance of love, of promise, of assurance. It's the way my Daddy smells when he exits the bathroom after his shower and shave. It is the way my Mom smells every time she hugs me. It is the fragrance of popcorn which reminds me of my precious baby girl when she used to love to have "pacorn" and "hot tea". It is that sweaty-little boy smell when my precious baby boy used to come in search of me to share a "treasure" he had found outdoors. It is the smell of wet dog and fishy-breathed cat who have been such faithful companions at times when I have been so very alone. It is the aroma of meals shared with family and friends.

Lisa said...

Wow!!! Great blog.

Some say that smells are the most powerful connection to our memories and I guess that if there is a smell that can just bring you to Jesus, it is worth finding. I have smells that bring me to my childhood, to my family, to my friends, to good times and to bad, but I don't think that I have found the smell of Jesus yet. I hope that one day people will look at me and just know that I am radiating with the smell of the Lord.

Beth said...

I think I smell Jesus whenever I go home, or to my grandparents' house. My Mimi reeks of Jesus!! If Jesus smelled like a sweet old lady and baby powder. Also, my bed pillows. Not that Jesus has been sleeping in my bed at night and rubbing his scent everyhwere, but that's where I feel really safe and comfortable. Even though sometimes it smells of beer and cigarettes after coming home and passing out from the bar. But hey, that sweet sleepy smell is still there!!