How I became a Quaker- part 1

My Quaker story begins a few years before I was born....

My mother fell in with Quakers in New York City, during the 60s protests against the Vietnam War. I was born in the mid 70s. I grew up in a completely secular household, but both of my parents had what I would now call a secular Quaker style of parenting my brothers and me. They gave us moral guidelines and lots of leeway to think for ourselves.

I remember when I was small, asking about heaven. They explained how it was an important idea to many people, but they didn't believe in it. And maybe it's up to us to create heaven while we were living on earth.

They taught us about ecology and the web of life, treating everybody with equal respect, and the importance of personal integrity.

Through high-school I called myself agnostic, because I felt I had no evidence for or against the Divine, though I switched from atheist to believer a few times as well. But when I went away to school, my mother said, "Ithaca has a Quaker Meeting. You might try going to it some time." Being 18, I basically replied, "Sure mom, whatever." But some months later, I did some library research and found that I was open to the idea of Quaker Meeting, even if religion still made me quite suspicious.

It was nearly a year before I made my way "so early" on a Sunday morning for 10:30 worship on the edge of campus. I found the building, found the room, and nearly immediately felt like I was rejoining a group I already somehow knew.

I remember how difficult it was to quiet my thoughts for an entire hour; I was sure I was doing it wrong.

I remember hearing messages that made me think; and messages that bugged me; and gradually learning how to listen to the Spirit under the words.

I remember how friendly and accepting so many people were. At that time, I was making an effort to "come out of the closet"— and it was remarkably healing to be part of a non-student group that accepted me just as I was; even people my parents’ and grandparents' ages.

I remember how much going to meeting "Just Fit"—and how clear it was to me this had been a missing piece in my life. I gradually became more aware of the still, small Voice that was speaking—to me—and my rationalist agnosticism eventually melted away in the presence of that Voice.

I remember how impressed I was at the audacity of the idea behind Business Meeting—community discernment of God's instructions for us today, not 2,000 years ago— and how this has been practiced for over 300 years! And also sometimes how frustrating it was in practice, even after I started decoding the acronyms. I fell in love with Quaker process, within a few years, after I had experienced a number of Covered meetings— covered by Spirit's loving embrace.

So as a student, I kept going as often as I could, even though 10:30 was still quite early in the morning. 

How could I not?

—

I am curious about other peoples' faith journeys. How did you get where you are today? We don't tend to talk about these things in public much, do we? Let me know if you've written up something like this. I hope to write a few "chapters" - perhaps 3 or 4 to bring me up to today.

This is a re-post with minor changes from my guest post at FGCquaker.org. It's licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 3.0 United States License, which means you can repost it with attribution for non-commercial use. But I'd appreciate knowing if you do!

A walking meditation

I took a long walk this afternoon, enjoying some time with Rover exploring a new-to-us neighbourhood. It was good for an extended period of walking meditation, being super-attentive to myself; listening to the deeper part of me that often knows more than I realize.

I was feeling... burdened, but I didn't know from what, at first. It gradually clarified to anxiety over whether I was "Doing It Right" - feeling like I could be doing so much more, living better, making a bigger difference in the world.  (So, um, perhaps the most common angst known to humankind.)

I went deeper- walking and questioning, and asking Spirit for hints, since this was feeling pretty much like Meeting for Worship. I found I was resisting some directions, and eventually brought my attention back around to those troubling places, as Quakers have instructed all the way back to George Fox's time.

Some of the tough parts: Yes, I could do a better job with particular challenges, and I will work on those. Yes, the world is indeed in a fine mess, and there might be things I could be doing in the world to help.

But- it eventually felt fairly clear that this prompting was not a direct instruction for something I should be doing or not doing. Nor was it a "wait; go further into stillness before you can figure it out." Nor was it a "chill out, you get anxious over everything." (well, there was some of that, but that wasn't the brunt of the message).

Ultimately: "don't do more. Do less. Better."

And I feel that's the root of it, because articulating that took off a bit of the burden. And it's good sensible advice. Even if it's difficult advice.

After the Dazzle of Day

After the dazzle of day is gone,
Only the dark dark night shows
        to my eyes the stars;
After the clangor of organ majestic,
        or chorus, or perfect band,
Silent, athwart my soul, moves the
        symphony true.

                  – Walt Whitman (1888)

I was going to name my blog after Dazzle of Day, the wonderful Quaker science-fiction novel by Molly Gloss, but I didn't want to confuse anyone who might think this blog were by her.

So I went back to sources- hers for the inspiration for the novel's title, and mine for a leading light and major personal inspiration over the years.

I also figured that nobody would confuse me for him, despite the oh-so-many similarities... (hm: male. Sometimes bearded. Have family on Long Island. Admirer of male form; and incurable romantic. But I will stop there, since I'm not much of a poet.) 
--

"Athwart" is such a wonderful 19th-century nautical word, isn't it? I picture masts laying across boats.

Or for a modern flavour, perhaps cats athwart keyboards?