Focus: Chirps and Other Creative Distractions

*published in Presence: The Journal of Spiritual Directors International, September 1999*

In July, as I was editing some of the articles in this issue, my normally peaceful work environment was disrupted. Opposite our driveway is a three-story apartment complex, so I am used to the occasional radio or playing children, but I was not prepared for the sound that was to drive me to the brink of my temper.

It was a chirp. Now that doesn't sound so bad, but this all-but-inaudible chirp occurred every minute or so, and like the Chinese water torture, I was driven mad in expectation of the next occurrence.

It seems that one of our neighbors in the apartment building had gone on vacation and had left his window open, and, unknown to him, I'm sure, the smoke detector's battery was running low.
In our own house, it only takes a couple of those annoying chirps to send me running to the store for a new nine-volt battery. But in this case, having no means - and no legal right - to enter our neighbor's apartment and rectify the situation, I simply had to endure.

So it was the two of us working on this issue: me and the chirp. I turned on the CD player, making sure I had a stack of CDs going to drown it out. This worked for a while, but inevitably, the CD would run its course. Not noticing that it had stopped, I would cringe anew when that annoying "chirp" broke whatever reverie or concentration I had going.

Proofreading one day in the sun on the chaise lounge in the back yard (yeah, I know, tough job), I realized that if I didn't reframe this thing somehow, I was going to go bonkers and wreak havoc on the azaleas. Since this would certainly get me into trouble with my wife, I decided to sit for a moment in meditation, to allow the chirp to simply be "the chirp," and to listen to what God might be telling me through this annoyance.

As so often happens when I simply "open up" to the divine, or to the unconscious, an answer leaped to mind. Two words came to me in that moment: "Telephone Zen."

Several years ago when I was representing Creation Spirituality magazine at the annual Common Boundary conference, the keynote speaker was Thich Nhat Hanh. In his opening address he invited all of us to do "Telephone Zen." Whenever the phone rings, instead of reaching for it instantly, he suggested that we take a moment to quiet our minds and allow the ringing to bring us into the moment. Thus what had formerly been alarming, annoying, and intrusive was transformed into a tool for mindfulness.

"Chirp Zen," I said aloud, and grinned. The next time the chirp occurred I tried it, and noted the bristling happening inside of me, the stress aching in my shoulders, the unspoken needs waiting to be offered up. Being "in the moment" can be dangerous, because in addition to all one has to do, one becomes aware of all there is to experience - too much of it painful, too much of it too beautiful to give it its due.

For the next few days, I practiced "Chirp Zen," and although I never reached a state where it wasn't annoying, it became more than just annoying. It became a complex metaphor for all of the things in my life which I would like to ignore, but which intrude upon my myopic universe demanding attention, time, and mindfulness.

I've been grateful to the Spirit for this little insight, for the reminder that blessings do not always come in attractive packages, and for the resourcefulness to creatively engage this tiny intruder into my peace. Paradoxically, an intruder that increased my peace.

Creativity in our mundane, always imperfect spiritual lives is a gateway through which untold insights, transformations, and resurrections may occur. This issue is filled with an awareness of how creativity, art, and imagination can guide us on our spiritual journeys. Jane V. Steinhauser's marvelous article, "Artprayer: A Dance with the Holy," describes how she discovered the power of allowing the divine to pray through her, revealing itself in a particularly significant piece of artwork. Jane goes on to describe how one may use this method for others, guiding and supporting the opening to the Holy their deepest fears and desires.

Martin Dean continues this thread in his instructive "Imagination: A Route for the Journey," in which he offers suggestions for using Active Imagination in the practice of spiritual direction. His gentle style and poignant experiences with directees provide a valuable model for incorporating this into one's practice.

Australian supervisor Paul Castley also offers some important insights on opening up and listening to the voice of the Spirit in the supervisory relationship. His practice is one of stopping and noticing what is happening within. Just as in my own moment of stopping to listen to what the chirp was telling me, Paul's listening practice has also often yielded surprising and useful information.

Dan Turner's contribution to our "Listening to Scripture" column also exemplifies what may occur when one is open to listening to the unpleasant, the frightening, or in his case, the darkness.
While our two Contexts & Cultures articles are not, strictly speaking, invitations to creative listening, the authors' presentations reveal that they have done much such listening, and their insights are both novel and compelling.

Not long after finishing editing the last of the articles for this issue, I noticed that my work had proceeded uninterrupted for the entire morning. Apparently my neighbor must have returned from vacation and replaced the battery in his smoke detector, eliminating the shrill "chirp" from my life. I smiled as I realized that, just for a moment, I had missed it.

On another note, while many people have congratulated the editorial board for Presence's creative design transformation, some people have voiced concern that perhaps they are getting less journal for their money. I would like to reassure readers that although the recycled paper we are using now is indeed lighter, we are still running at between 80 and 88 pages (as we have always done). This lighter paper saves both postage and trees! Our new design is also more compact, and while easier to read, it allows us to put more editorial content on every page. As always, the Presence staff is working hard to make sure your journal is as fine a publication as we can make it, and are cutting no corners! z
-John R. Mabry