Spiritual Practices for Anxious Times by Rev. Zenshin Florence Caplow

This is an anxious time in our country and in the world, on the eve of a momentous election, amongst other troubles. Rev. Florence Caplow will offer some simple spiritual practices that any of us can do, drawing from both her Unitarian Universalist and Buddhist understandings, that can be supportive in these times.

These are tremendously uncertain times, and as I say that I realize I’m not telling anything to you that you don’t already know. Right now we are in the middle of an extremely consequential election, not just for us but for the world, the most consequential election of a lifetime.

In fact, I am coming to you from Wisconsin and a Buddhist election retreat, where a group of us are sitting in meditation together morning and evening, and during the day we walk the streets of the towns in the area, helping people figure out where and when to vote. Because this year it feels like every vote counts, every action matters.

Not only do we all worry about our democracy with now, there is climate change, the wars in the Middle East and Ukraine. You already know.

Many centuries ago in China a Zen a student asked his teacher, what is the practice of a lifetime?, and the teacher said, “an appropriate response.” What is the appropriate response, right now?

I can’t tell you, that is for you to find out. But I don’t think it is turning away, and I don’t think it is drowning in fear and anger. It might be your own version of Thich Nhat Hanh reminding us that if even one person on the boat could stay calm, everyone might survive.

I don’t really believe in giving advice, because who actually follows advice, but I’m going to break my own rule this morning, since these are desperate times, and offer a little advice, five simple spiritual practices to help become, perhaps, a little more like that one person in the boat. You learned one already, when you felt your feet.

Why does this matter so much, to do practices like these? You might have a feeling that it’s wrong to be calm, or find peace of joy, in the stormy seas of our time, when so many are suffering.

First spiritual practice, find sabbath, and not just on Sunday, find ways to regularly pause, slow down and feed your spirit, just as you chose to sit here in this sanctuary this morning, listening to beautiful music, and words that will hopefully give you some inspiration. Put down your phone and your doom scrolling and really let yourself rest.

Maybe some of you feel like you’re running a marathon, with all that seems wrong these days. And in a marathon – not that I’ve ever run one, but this is what I hear – you need to be sure to get enough water and pace yourself. Same with mountaineering, which I have done. Rest breaks are essential. When you get up at high elevation in mountaineering, you have to rest with every step.

No matter how this election goes, we are still in a marathon. No election result is going to make everything all right. We are in the middle of a polycrisis.

Tricia Hersey, a black activist, Bishop of Nap Ministry, and author of Rest as Resistance, reminds us that rest is a radical act in these times.

Here are some other sabbath ideas: Walk in the woods, cuddle with your loved ones or your dog or cat, drink a cup of tea, go on retreat. And know that you are not turning away from the troubles of the world, you are strengthening yourself for the journey and the struggle.

So advice number 1, find a way to slow down and be present, whether you call it meditation or a walk in the woods.

One of the best ways is to just feel your feet, as we did earlier. When you’re walking, standing in line, wherever you are, feeling your feet will quite literally ground you.

If you choose to slow down, your adrenal glands will thank you, if no one else does, but probably the people around you will benefit as well!

Second, consider a practice of gratitude. I know, it’s become a cliché, but the harder and uglier things get, the more important this simple practice becomes. Yes, you have a right to some happiness, even when things are falling apart.

The intentional practice of gratitude has been shown, scientifically, to increase baseline happiness, reduce pain and depression, lower stress, and improve sleep. If we had a drug that did all that, with no side effects, it would be a runaway best-seller.

There are a thousand ways to practice gratitude, to, as Rumi said, to kneel and kiss the ground. …but like most practices, it does not need to be elaborate.

Two of the easiest practices are savoring and awe. Savoring is to fully experience small pleasures and comforts, like your morning coffee, or how it feels to get into bed after a long day.

Awe is our response to something vast or amazing – something seen, heard, or witnessed. Awe can also arise from witnessing kindness, or an act of great courage.

Third, and this may seem strange to a bunch of well read UUs, but it is at the heart of Zen, and incredibly helpful in anxious times: consider a practice not knowing.

What do I mean by that? We are so sure we KNOW.

Our thoughts about the world and where it’s going can literally drive us crazy, but they are just thoughts, and when we realize this we can act with greater inner peace. Thich Nhat Hanh used to tell his students to ask themselves, always, “Am I sure?”

For instance, perhaps like you, I am sometimes filled with dread about our collective future, but the reality is that I don’t know the future, and no one does, not even the wisest pundit writing in the most prestigious publication – apologies to any pundits in the sanctuary!

My favorite book on not knowing is called The Black Swan, the impact of the highly improbable, by the Lebanese-American economist Nicholas Taleb. What he says is that if you look back in history, almost everything that has happened was not what people were predicting before it happened, but actually the result of surprises, twists of fate, the improbable.

Earlier this summer I was talking to a Buddhist group in Sebastopol. It was Sunday morning, July 21st. There was a lot of fear and despair in the air, and my talk was on fear and the power of not knowing. Does anyone know what happened about noon that day? Yes, a black swan. A sitting president running for re-election did the nearly unthinkable, and pulled out of the race, and suddenly – literally in a matter of moments – a different set of possibilities, a different possible future, appeared before us.

So we can always do this, ask ourselves “am I sure” and then still act for what we believe in, knowing we can’t know the outcome – all we can do is work toward what we think is right. There is a greater ease in this approach, rather than the yo-yo of “its going our way” or “it’s not going our way”. Then, no matter what happens, we just keep going, keep doing what we think is right, like that brave little parrot.

Fifth, DO SOMETHING. One of the people on the retreat I’m attending is a white water rafting guide. When he takes kids out on the river, he and the other guides remind the kids, “Paddle or Die!”. When you are in big water in a raft and things get scary, one of the worst things you can do is stop paddling – then the fact is truly at the mercy of the waves and rock.

Or as our former first lady keeps reminding us, “DO something!”. It turns out that one of the best antidotes to despair is to pitch in. I feel that, being here in Wisconsin. I feel that when I help with anything – planting a pollinator garden, even giving money to causes I believe in. Susan Proctor told me recently how much it helps her to work at the thrift store in Aspen. It doesn’t have to be a huge thing.

It is wonderful to be of use.

Fifth: Remember to Stay together, remember that you are not alone. What brought me to ministry was witnessing – and being a beneficiary of – the tremendous care and love, even for strangers, that can be expressed in a UU congregation. What really brought me to UU ministry was stumbling into a congregation in a new city, sad and unwell, and being embraced, almost before they knew my name. Come to think of it, I experienced awe when that happened!

There is power and encouragement that comes from showing up for each other. Acting for the world, standing in a picket line or marching for justice, not alone, but together. This is one of the many reasons I think progressive faith communities will matter all the more in the coming years, despite what the pundits say. We need each other. We can’t do this alone.

Love is at the heart of our UU values, of the universalism in our tradition. And we can love each other, and this world, human and non-human, no matter what our future brings.

In the last few years with my mother, I knew our time together was limited. Did I love her less for that? Of course not! If anything I loved her more. So no matter what the future brings, we can love one another.

And on a lighter note, a little bonus advice from the great satirist Kurt Vonnegut, his last words of advice – who knows if anyone listened? to an audience in 2007 :

“And how should we behave during this Apocalypse? We should be unusually kind to one another, certainly. But we should also stop being so serious. Jokes help a lot. And get a dog, if you don’t already have one …

If even one of these spoke to you, I invite you to bring it more fully into your life.

So, to review, here are some simple spiritual practices for the anxious times: to pause, remember gratitude, practice not knowing, do something, stay together and love fiercely no matter what, and don’t forget to laugh now and again!