Ever notice how a dog can sit for hours on a porch just watching the world go by. There are no existential puzzles to solve, or complex identity narratives to sort out, nothing to prove, and no other place to be. That is a dog that is well fed and belong. The master lives inside. Its that simple.

What about us humans?

I wish it were that simple, but we have self-isolating egos, self-constructed identities, and disordered loves to navigate. What happened to just food and belonging?

What if we took more time each day to just sit on the porch of our lives, accepting our humanity, our position and place in the world, and then began to realize how deeply we already do belong and are loved.

Where is that place where we can hear God say: “I am pleased to dwell with you”?

The spiritual life is a practice in being. But when we are restless, we are tempted to flee from our being into only doing and consuming. But such a response is only to throw more logs on the fire of this existential restlessness.

So how do we stay grounded, centered, and at peace? How do we stay connected to God’s presence within us?

It seems to me that we have to embrace the “little deaths” that come to us and not avoid them or narcotize ourselves from them. We need to drink the cup of our real life. To be present to ourself and not escape the scene.

Three beautiful pathways into our own presence and Gods presence are silence, solitude, and stillness. These are gifts that can “wake us up” to the realization that the infinite, burning consumer within us is actually a longing for God in us. The longing is for presence, for a sense of being.

Be careful what you consume, what you use to try and fill your emptiness. begin to see your unrest as a sign or invitation from God to return to silence, stillness, and solitude. And then start to intentionally build these practices into your day.

I grew up fishing with my dad and I remember the exhilaration of the catch, the soul quickening tingle when the line goes taught and the pole bends, absorbing the life force of the deep, and traveling up into my hands and body.

In the thrill of the “catch” there is a connection and a flow of energy that is ecstasy. I can only liken it to wires touching to form a momentary electric circuit, a oneness.

For the sporting fish there is also the ritual of “release”. The momentary grasping of slippery flesh to free it of hook and barb, and the encounter with that mystery of life starring back with translucent eyes and firm jaw. And then the lifting up in thanks and the lowering down in respect to set free the life.

Through out our lives we face the spiritual challenge of catch and release. Our desires, like a burning fire, imaging God within us, seek to hold, to have, to love and embrace all things. But in our frailty and mortality there is also the temptation to grasp with intent to keep and to cling, but this will only leave us impoverished, holding idols, ideologies, and dead things.

Gods gifts are as endless as our desires, so keep releasing them back into the sea of love from which they came.

Monitoring our neurosis is an important part of spiritual growth. It is the sensitivity to know when our subtle triggers have been pulled and deep subliminal fears have been activated.

Yes, we all have levels of neurosis. Its an original wound, a place where we loose our fundamental trust and deploy false strategies to control, that are stimulated by fear. And this is where we have to learn to lean against our natural inclinations. St. Ignatius called this “Agere Contra” or to go against. To recognize where we have become overly “bent” in one direction and to make the reverse bend to compensate.

For example, a person prone to avarice, when invited to donate or give should err on the side of generosity. For them, they need to “over bend” and to go against their feelings of being irresponsible and not protecting or conserving their wealth, which irrationally feels like its running out. To lean the other way despite inner pangs of fear is to be self aware enough to push your way through the irrational fear into freedom.

If we keep leaning into the door of our darkness, and practicing self awareness, eventually we break through into a more spacious arena full of light. Essentially, this is the virtue of humility, to accept the light upon our wound as part of what makes us beautiful.

I start my day with five blueberries, picking them out of the carton one by one and consuming them slowly. Just a little sacred ritual to help me focus and not jump too quickly in the ego-race and rush.

Five is symbolic of man: gifted, glorious, frail, and flawed. Five is also my place on the enneagram. We fives easily get trapped in the mind, in abstractions, obsessed with knowing and understanding, which becomes our idol or false path to security. But there is ultimately no security, no place to go, except to fall into the presence of a loving God and accept the gifts provided.

These beautiful berries drank their little fill of sun, water and earth and they speak to me on a deep cellular level. In their smallness and singularity they teach me about focus, presence, and embodiment. They tell me to slow down and become aware the sacred temple that I am, and to give myself completely to the present moment.