Return: A Participation Essay

After my last essay fifteen months prior, I began working on this. Basically the only thing produced—properly composed—in this time span was the title and the poem at the end. What does return mean? My dear friend Mayra says it well:

“… I want to share some information regarding the larger spiritual transformation that’s upon us—and how this will radically alter how you think, as well as naturally expand your ability to operate from love (not fear).” —Mayra Porrata

From love, not fear. And this was our beginning, your beginning. Our only hope, for anything good, is a return to love. As Mayra makes clear in this newsletter issue, the return is a transition that will include pain, disorienting spans of time, and grief. It should include these things. The return must be navigated intentionally with these things.

Return home to the You that has been since the beginning.

Pure Presence (Going Home)
All my life, here and there, I’ve heard it said, “You can’t go home again.” I’ve assumed this means that if you return it won’t be the same home you left. In that sense I would have to agree. I’ve gone home to my claimed hometown more than once. And yes, a lot changed. But was it enough change? Was it the right change?

A return to the love from which you came is a return home. It may be the only going home where one can find all just as it was left. Sit with that for a bit.

My journey back home, my return to love, began when we left that geographical home. I was 36. We lived away for 29 years, and in that span new challenges in my work, fresh experiences, and most of all, beautifully diverse interactions and relationships took hold on my seeing.

Cultural conditioning began to unravel as my view expanded beyond myopic ways of looking at many wide-ranging subjects. While some of this was indeed freeing, I would be a liar if I said some of this was not also threatening. Of course the only thing in danger were old beliefs serving nothing of value, narcissism, an ego fighting for its existence, and fear-driven expectations blocking truth.

“Isn’t this the 21st Century?” (A Violent Flow)
Watching the news about Putin’s violence and the invasion of Ukraine, I saw a brief interview of a young Ukrainian woman. It was her incredible question that I cannot get out of my head and heart; “Isn’t this the 21st Century?” Yes, have we learned nothing? Unfortunately, it would seem so.

This reminds me of something I wrote in the Essay on Compassion:

Becky and I were coming home from a pandemic-get-out-of-the-house outing, driving home via the beautiful Natchez Trace that runs right by our neighborhood. I was looking straight ahead as I drove, seeing a paved Parkway curving through lovely land and beautiful trees declaring the season. It occurred to me all this was built, and made, on a sphere suspended in the space of a galaxy, itself spinning and moving within a great Universe. Followed by a thought of how stupid we as humans behave on this tiny round speck in a grand Universe — a magnificent, sprawling territory of infinite possibility; possibility squandered by our lack of ability to see miraculous beauty and endless opportunity.

And yet we still ‘war’ and squander opportunity to be at peace with each other.

My Return to the Mother
June 2005 is the month I’ve labeled as my spiritual breakdown; an angry rant seemingly against everything I’d been taught. Truthfully, not quite everything. But honestly, a whole lot I’d been led to believe within a compromised and narrow understanding of Christianity. Blessedly for me, and those served through my work, we have a wise and wonderful friend. Beth is not just a wonderful friend but also a loving pastor. In that very month of June, she shared with me some reading to console me in my broken state. As my wife once said to one of my employees, “Jeff doesn’t read. He studies.”

In my contemplative studies of the past 17 years I’ve been very mindful of what I’ve come to believe is the ‘sin’ of the world, violence. And thanks to some of those I’ve studied, like John Dominic Crossan, I’ve become very conscious of the flow of this sin: Ideological violence—Rhetorical violence—Physical violence. If one uses God to justify violence—be it ideological, rhetorical, or physical—then that one doesn’t worship God, that one uses a god he’s created to serve his own ignorant, narcissistic means.

If one prescribes to one particular religion, or one way to worship, because it justifies the exclusion of others, then this one doesn’t understand religion at all. While religion has been used to control, manipulate, and keep others within borders (real or perceived), true religion is based on inclusion and bringing together.

And if you’re a Christian, as I remain with great grieving difficulty, and you support hate, war, and any other form of violence, then you do so in direct opposition to Jesus who came to show us our freedom in love. While it would be convenient to justify myself by placing blame on something, or some others, for my own complicity in violence—be it in thought, word, or deed—that would only deepen the false protection in the Cult of Innocence (see Brian Mclauren’s book in Notes & Influences).

When the beginning is right, the rest is made considerably easier. —Richard Rohr

So as I’ve deeply considered the love from which I came, I’ve been recalling many scenes from my life; the beautiful ones always containing my organic devotion to nature. I walk every day that I possibly can, and when I can, I hike for miles in the woods along the Natchez Trace Parkway. When living in Northeast Tennessee, Becky and I hiked stunning trails in the Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina mountains. I fly fished the many streams and rivers. Most every day that I walk I see in my mind and heart the wonderful pasture sloping gently upward behind our house when I was a child on that dairy farm. While the world may be frustrating for all and dangerous for many, I love the Earth. I love the Mother.

So I’ve decided to return to the Mother to know and be one with all that is, that was created as Good. For my life & living in the world, I’m navigating back to the beginning; a child who understood Earth’s goodness and was shown the loving, non-violent, unlimited inclusive ways of Jesus.

Mississippi 

Summer cicadas
a chorus pass
tree to tree
In June
it’s rehearsal
by July
it’s performance
in August
it’s celebration

And so it goes
beauty
one form or another
available
on what I choose
to behold

Attention I do pay
it’s the remuneration
of presence

The pottery of presence
is still being purified
in the furnace fire
of suffering, grief, joy

To a land
one can belong
selected it seems
from the beginning

And those in the land
can be led awry
by a narrative false
away from the story true

Ignorance blissful
I now doubt
’tis just ignorance

Stands taken
on ground unreal
blind inhabitants
dangerous to all

With guilt I must release
the stupid complicity
and opinions misleading
in directions away from truth

This particular land cares not
it is one with the Mother
one with each of us

This particular land
a name given
from a great flow
and a divine, earthly people

This illustrious home
where Mississippi Kites
fly high
beauty and grace
demonstrably abound
patiently soaring far
above who we think
we are

So, a choral presentation
beautiful song without words
a most meaningful verse
the golden in silence

Notes & Influences:

Porrata, Mayra. TheFlourishingWay.com – Ohio: Copyright © 2022 Mayra Porrata, LLC. (You, only better! Newsletter, Issue #13)

Rohr, Richard. Center for Action and Contemplation

Crossan, John Dominic. How to Read the Bible and Still Be a Christian: Struggling with Divine Violence from Genesis through Revelation. New York: Harper Collins, 2015.

McLauren, Brian. Do I Stay Christian?: A Guide For The Doubters, The Disappointed, And The Disillusioned. New York: St. Martin’s Essentials, 2022.

Moore, Osheta. Dear White Peacemakers: Dismantling Racism With Grace And Grit. Harrisonburg, Virginia: Herald Press, 2021.

Postlude (if you’re interested):

This is how I say what we know as The Lord’s Prayer (thanks to my study with John Dominic Crossan, and of course the likes of Fr. Rohr, Fr. Green, Fr. Keating, etc.). Here is that prayer with my mind/heart knowing in parenthesis:

Our Father
(Householder of Earth — to me, Mother and Father)
who art in heaven
(Jesus’ message is that the Kingdom of God/Heaven is already here)
Hallowed be thy Name
(Our mere breath in and out speaks this unspeakable name – YaHWeH)
Thy Kingdom come
(Distributive Justice and Restorative Righteousness—earth belongs equally to all, no matter what)
Thy will be done
(Love, pure and simple)
As in Heaven, so on earth
(Heaven is ours to live, Now)
Give us this day our daily bread
(In this Kingdom, this earth, and in a community of Love, we must want/worry not) (The Earth, and all on it, is not Rome’s, it is God’s)
And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors
(Forgiveness of debt was a command in Judaism—the land is God’s—this had nothing to do with sin … rather, Jubilee years)
And lead us not into temptation
(Keep us from counter violence)
But deliver us from evil
(Violence IS the evil; and the flow is Ideological Violence to Rhetorical Violence to Physical Violence)
For Thine is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory, for ever.
Amen

 

The Trek Down: A Participation Essay

In the years BJ and I lived among the Appalachian Mountains, we hiked stunning trails in Tennessee, Virginia, and North Carolina. We lovingly remember one particular trek in North Carolina’s Land of Waterfalls.

After a day of warming up on a trail along the river by the hotel, we decided to go deeper into the Pisgah National Forest and explore a bit higher. Stopping in at a park visitor center, we met a Scottish Ranger. We probably asked more questions than required, as it was delightful to hear his rhythmic responses. We outlined what we desired to do; hike a trail of medium difficulty for approximately two to three hours. He quickly responded by unfolding a park map and pointing to the trail he believed would fit our preferences. We thanked him, followed his directions, and arrived at the base of the trail. We cinched up hiking boots over hiking socks, retrieved our hiking staffs, and I pulled on the backpack loaded for our medium difficulty and distance hike.

Upward

We have hiked many beautiful trails, and the one in the Land of Waterfalls was no exception. About two hours into the hike we were still climbing, even with the realization that this was going to be a long one, we still found ourselves appreciative of trees, rhododendron, and the skillfully maintained trail; extremely steep sections made more navigable by carefully placed stones harvested from the bounty of the Mountain.

When I graduated from the University, as best I can remember, I think I expected the trail of life ahead would be a relative steady, upward climb. For a time, it was. I know individuals who have climbed their path with such straight, conscious focus, or so that’s how I perceived their ascent. But for me, there were a lot of side-paths, diversions where I was maybe trying to “find myself” (one of those phrases once spoken often by those in my generation).

On my upward trek in life and living, I wish I had been so present and conscious of the beauty surrounding me all along. Even in the lack of due-diligent presence, I’ve still found myself tremendously blessed by the relationships made and maintained along the way.

I’m here to tell you, in spite of the diversions, that the trek upward went way too fast; a speed that breaks my heart. As Parker J. Palmer asks, “Is my heart broken apart or broken open?” I pray continually that it is open. 

The Trust View (At the Summit)

For so long it seems, I looked expectantly forward to getting to the top of the hill, to be filled with experience and wisdom, proud of what was back down that climb of life and living. Certainly I breached the crest with experience, and yes, a certain cache of wisdom, but there wasn’t time to peer back without the temptation to walk back the same way, something that in loving reality was not possible for me.

Certainly I was free to make the choice of which way to descend. Or was I? I’m not sure going back the way one came is necessarily the best way to go home. Or maybe it’s just that trying to go back the same way is not possible due to our own false expectations. Expectations tied to anything other than our own Trueness cause us to want a reality that once was, or anything but what it is in the moment. If we are actually paying attention once at the summit of something, we see the way up with new eyes, and clearly see other possibilities from there. It is such presence at the peak that I call “The Trust View.” It is a place you go, real or metaphorically, to know the balance of all experience.

Our hiking in the Appalachian Mountains taught me something of great value: When you get to the Summit, stop and look. When we reached the top that day, we were enthralled by the beauty of the heights. We could look back down to where we had parked, buildings barely identifiable, and cars looking like frozen ants. To stop and rest in such a view, observation and participation meet and swirl together, creating the joy of experience, a holding together of what has been and what is about to be. At such summit we pause and consciously open to all that can be seen. Without words we find encouragement for the poetry of the journey to continue.

The trust view is a metaphor to balance ascent and descent.

Downward

“Over the hill,” another term once frequently spoken in my generation’s younger years. It was often heard as, “Don’t trust anyone over thirty.” In general, I didn’t say or think such, or maybe my reality was the challenge of trusting anyone between age thirty and sixty-five.

Growing up, I was fortunate to spend a lot of quality time with grandparents. Even though they are long gone from this earth, their influence stays with me as I continue on the trail of life and living. The gift of time with them was made possible by two parents over thirty. Well anyway, I’m now over the hill according to those old standards, and quite so as I’m almost at that sixty-five limit. But what does this mean?

I’m not certain what all it means, but one thing I know, that it is important to walk steadily with a good hiking staff. In the reality of walking a mountain path, the hiking staff is a smart option for support and security over the hill, allowing other body members to absorb the pounding of the steps downward. Metaphorically, the trek down the hill of life and living requires that I  remain consistently conscious of, and dedicated to, the support I need to steady the walk.

There’s the need and requirement to focus one’s steps down the path on the other side of the hill. I stumbled plenty on the hike upward. While usually recovering my steps quickly, I also had times in a divot dug deeper by self-pity, but I eventually came out of each one of these times and kept walking. Sometimes my steps resumed as I smiled and looked forward with joy. And sometimes I walked on with a tear stained face.

Going Home

It was more than five hours before we saw the base of that trail again in the Land of Waterfalls. Along the descent, probably still an hour to the base, a young couple passed on their way up; they had obviously begun their hike from the other end. As we greeted each other, the woman said, “We’re almost to the top, right?” Without breaking careful downward stride I said, “Whatever you need to tell yourself.” Behind us we heard, “Oh no!”

Once the shock of the distance ahead wore off, I hope that young couple continued on the trail, stopped at the summit, and like us can look back on the day as a beautiful experience. I hope, as they have navigated life and living since that day, that they can see the stones so carefully placed where they needed to be, that their steps will be as carefully placed as they head down, and that they will each see the bounty of the mountain all along the way.

–J. Brunson

Check out my new book, Participation: Falling in Love with Reality
Also available for Kindle

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Conversation with Mayra Porrata

I met Mayra Porrata in the last few years of our corporate life. It was wonderful when she reached out to reconnect. That was a few years ago and what has grown from the reconnection is such blessing to me!

A contemplative leader is present. You are aware of not only what is happening in the environment, with the people involved, but also very aware of what is happening with you. We are very complex beings.” –Mayra Porrata

I know you will enjoy hearing from Mayra. She is such an encourager; just what we do in this Work of Trueness!

Conversation with Dan Roller

Dan Roller has been a dear friend, and support, for over 17 years. We know you will enjoy this conversation with him as he reflects on the ‘P’ that is most important to him.

Part of being present has everything to do with being true to yourself. If you are true to your passion and your purpose … then, they align with presence. –Dan Roller, Acris Consulting

Dan founded Acris Consulting to bring the expertise of those who have a passion for execution to the field of education where he first began his career as a secondary and post-secondary teacher.

The Work of Trueness – Theory to Practice Continued


In this podcast, I want you to get to know Ric a bit better. Ric talks about the ‘P’ that most resonates with him at this time in his life. It is Purpose where Ric starts … and holds and maintains the tension with his own Passion, Purpose, and Presence.

Next, we will continue to go deeper into the move from Theory to Practice to support you in Change and Transition.

The Work of Trueness: From Theory to Practice

Now that you know the 3Ps, how can you use them to help you achieve your goals in life?

We commit to an unfolding process in this work that supports your Practice as a Leader!

Conversation with Jennifer Rainey

Jennifer Rainey is a Practitioner/Consultant for Organizational Effectiveness. She is a Fellow-Encourager in The Work of Trueness and has much to say that brings value to your Strengths-based approach to growth & development.

Jennifer encourages us to each look inside and identify our passions/strengths.

Subscribe to her expert curation at Through the Door of Possibility.

Conversation with Ted Senf – Part 2

Leaders joined together in the commitment to Encouragement: receiving it and giving it! This is The Work of Trueness.

“When you lose yourself in what you’re doing, passion flows freely.” –Ted Senf

Conversation with Ted Senf – Part 1

The Work of Trueness: individuals committed to living & leading from the authentic self.

Treat yourself to Ted Senf. You will find kind encouragement for your unique power as a leader!

The Work of Trueness – Presence

The Work of Trueness; a collective of individuals committed to living & leading from the authentic self.

Think on what it means for a leader to melt into the presence of another.