Bubbles and Lions

 Bubbles and Lions

So the king gave the order, and they brought Daniel and threw him in the lions’ den. The king said to Daniel, “May your god, who you serve continually, rescue you!”

Daniel 6:16 NIV

            A couple of years back, my then 2^nd grade son, made the astute observation that I didn’t imagine enough. He recognized that I was too reality based - caught up in grocery lists, cleaning plans, school homework finishing, swimming lesson logistics, meal planning, laundry washing, home maintenance issues, social planning agendas, professional continuing education lessons, plots and plans for home buying, news and world events woes. He noticed that I was not doing as he does incredibly naturally. He creates worlds set far apart and fully independent of all of that. So, he took it upon himself to begin to teach me how to imagine properly. “First,” he said, “you need to think about something you enjoy. Then you need to turn it into a cartoon.” He then proceeded to check on me at the end of each school day to see if I had spent a little time each day in this important practice. I was a terrible student. I would continue to get caught up in the matters of the day and allow the worldly doings of the day do me in to the point where taking the effort imagine something, anything, felt like a massive, difficult, and worthless undertaking.

            But, a question began to arise from within. Why is that so hard? I really didn’t think it was a worthless idea at all, and I realized I had a terribly deep urge to tap into that space, that imagination, that place where the concerns of the world could drop away. But, I had forgotten how. I tend to think a lot in pictures, but my mind got very crowded with images and thoughts of only what was immediately in front of me, or projections, plans, projects, and worries over what the future might hold. I had certainly made some weak attempts with meditation before in attempts to tap into that zone. I tried to do what is often instructed: close your eyes, begin to notice and slow your breathing, begin to quiet the mind and then if a thought pops into that space imagine it into a bubble and let it float away. This seems a common meditation practice scenario. I’m sure it is the lack of patience I brought into such practice, but I could never quite get my thoughts and images to fit into bubbles and float away. I found my feeble attempts with bubble meditations very frustrating and very short-lived. 

            However, over the past couple of years as I have made a little time each day on the day’s Gospel reading or a Bible study passage, I have found the flits and sparks of imagination rekindled and been able to drop myself and whatever my situation might be into a Bible passage with increasing depth. In this last week, I think I realized why bubble meditation was not so helpful for me. Problems I have, worries, concerns, fears for the future just don’t fit well in bubbles. But, they seem to fit very well onto lions. This past week I have been thinking more and more over the story of Daniel in the lion’s den, and pretending to be with Daniel. I enter into meditation with heart racing, short of breath. I begin to name my worries and fears, look upon them as lions and watch them prowl around with my already quickened breath, high-speed heart rate, and stomach clenched with anxiety. Courageously, I sit in the middle, with Daniel and his faith, learning how to trust God will keep them at bay, as He did for Daniel. I imagine sitting with that trust, and watching my terrifying lion-fears prowl. Watching the images I have of our kids and high school barring teeth and leering, but not able to pounce - my inhales begin to slow. The ever present leering economy, financial, job security and insecurities growl, but make futile attempts to bite – my exhales begin to slow; family health and death fears glare with piercing golden eyes, but with God’s flint I return the stare – my heart gradually beats more steadily; the evils of the world – terrorism, famine, injustice, environmental pollution, poverty lurk in the dark corners of the cement-walled den, weaving menacingly in and out of the shadows, but God’s light presses them back, forcing them to retreat to corners – my stomach begins to relax.  Breathing slowly in. Breathing slowly out. Heart steadying and slowing. Stomach softening and relaxing. Gently gazing at the softness of the lions’ coats, seeing the distance between us maintained, allowing trust, love, and light to widen the gap and enlighten the dark den. Watching their breath become more labored and slow, their glares and growls drop away, their pacing slowing to the point of their own much-needed rest. Gradually watching all my lion-fears tire and drop into sleep - tamed, and resting.  Here I find rest, with Daniel, with God, and with lions. May your lions of terror also find their rest with God, with Daniel, and with you. Shalom.