We are told to be in the world, not of the world. A challenging direction. We live in a world that demands much of us, that tells us in so many ways that the most important thing we can do is what we do for ourselves. Yet we are called to be a reflection of a greater goodness that shares, that loves, the helps, that supports, while we live each day in this space of tension. 

How? How do we do this? How do we stay in that space of being grounded in light while attached to the ground of a complex world? The answer of course is simple, like so many things, but not easy: sages and prophets and light-walkers through the millennia have shown us what this path looks like, have shown us how the path changes us when we walk it with intention and awareness. But it requires we be in the world in order to be fully present to loving each other, whoever that other is, wherever that other finds themselves situated. 

So I ask again, perhaps mostly for myself, how do I do this? How do I stay on a path that is walking with God, while that path cuts through the busy, hard, complex, often hurtful life of the world? 

I had the opportunity to visit a small island this week; an island that has been occupied by Benedictine monks for the last 1,500 years. The island is fifteen minutes by ferry from a glamorous city on the Mediterranean, surrounded by pleasure boats, and yachts, parties, music, shopping, beauty and debauchery, all. It is literally an island in the world, surrounded by the beautiful chaos of the world.

Signs welcome you with an invitation to be quiet, as you approach the monastery church you are reminded to be silent. People swam in the gorgeous waters, quietly; walked around the island pausing in shade with gentle nods and smiles; ate in the restaurant with joyful hushed voices. It was easy to be in this world. 

I did not desire to be a monk, but I was a little envious of the ease of not having to hold a center of serenity as you walk streets that don’t always reflect that back. I sighed a little for being in community with other people who shared the desire for a common path of loving God and loving neighbor. And then it occurred to me that might be precisely the world I live in, certainly it is the way we are called to be in the world.

Being on the island reminded me that a small island of serenity lives in each of us, can be what we attach ourselves to through our spiritual practices, and is there in every single one of us wherever we find ourselves. Built in to our being is an island of light that is loved by God, and wants to love God, that has neighbors who sometimes surprise you by reminding you that you are loved, and wants you to be a reminder of that love to the neighbors you meet. 

For me the practice of finding that metaphorical island within involves daily time to sit in prayer, in stillness and quiet, reaching out for that connection to God, the name I use to describe the presence and path of guiding love and light. For millennia intentional moments of stillness, practices of breath awareness, chant, and prayer, are what bring us to that island. The great gift of having a place to go apart from the world, that is always with you, is that you can pause wherever you are to be reminded of how to be in, without becoming of, or if you sense that you are too much of, it is a little landing place always available to visit and let go of the external busyness. By going inward we learn to be in, by taking time to go apart we can better develop a sense of our part, connected and a part of each other. 

My invitation is to practice a few moments of being apart, taking a little journey inward if you can’t get to an actual island of serenity. For three minutes each morning and each evening, pause, set a timer, be still, and on each breath simply say to yourself silently: here I am. See how that island starts to grow within as you practice for a week, then two, and keep going for 40 days. I promise, the way of loving, the sense of being in, the awareness of deeper connection, starts to fill you and you become a little island for everyone you meet. 

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